


Written in the Stars

by dreamofhope



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Astronomy, Carrying, Crossdressing, Dubious Consent, F/M, Fantasy, Interspecies Relationship(s), M/M, Multi, Older Man/Younger Man, Philosophy, Piercings, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Romance, Royalty, Secret Identity, Sexual Slavery, Size Difference, Slow Burn, Teasing, Virginity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2018-12-29 16:48:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 38,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12089190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamofhope/pseuds/dreamofhope
Summary: Alerick is a young soldier sent to the decadent capital to serve in the prince's household. The court shocks the serious, prudish new guardsman especially the outrageous, pleasure seeking prince who delights in mocking him. Alerick feels alone and out of place until one night he makes a new friend: a mysterious, reclusive scholar who shares Alerick's passion for learning.





	1. More Than This Provincial Life

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sex slave fic so dubious consent is par for the course. There are times when the dubcon borders on being noncon so be aware of that. I will warn for it again in the notes for that chapter or chapters.
> 
> Concrit welcomed!

The road to Queen’s Port is rocky and crowded; the wagon is old and rickety, but nothing can dampen Alerick's spirits. He’s off to the capital to become a guardsman in the Prince’s household. A highly desirable job that shouldn’t belong to a 19-year-old farmer’s son from a small city in the south of Ravant. Guardsmen are recruited almost exclusively from the nobility. Alerick’s good fortune is due to his rescue of a nobleman: a beloved friend of the king.

Alerick is thrilled to be finally going on an adventure of his own. At home he’s simply the youngest child of a not so prosperous farmer with too many children to support. So Alerick had gone into Chermine’s city guard at 14; he didn't want to be a farmer anyway. He’d always been a strong lad and quickly learned to be a good soldier. He enjoys the athleticism of the art of sword fighting. He finds the routine of drills, formations and his other duties soothing. He thrives on discipline.

Yet, Alerick often feels lonely since he doesn't know anyone who is interested in the things that he is. He hungers to learn more than his simple schooling had allowed for. His family and fellow soldiers show no interest in anything other than the basics taught to all commoners. Alerick spends much of his time dreaming of adventures in far off lands.

Then while walking back to the barracks one night he comes across a robbery. An unkempt man with ragged clothing has his dagger at the throat of an old man. Alerick steps in and disarms the ruffian who flees the scene. Alerick gives chase but he eludes him in the dark twisted alleys of the city. Alerick returns to make sure the old man is alright and he turns out to be a beloved friend of the king, Master Duvall. A scholar who is more than pleased to discover Alerick’s interest in learning.

They begin meeting when Alerick has free time and Master Duvall teaches Alerick much more than he had learned as a boy. New worlds are opened to him: higher mathematics, astronomy and philosophy. But Alerick still longs for more, what of he isn’t always certain.

One night after a pleasant evening spent discussing planetary laws, Master Duvall says, “I very much enjoy our time together, Alerick, but you deserve more from life than what your parents or I can give you. I’ve written to the King and he would like to offer you a position in Prince’s household.”

Alerick is struck speechless for a moment and then says excitedly, “Yes, I accept! Thank you sir!”

Master Duvall chuckles and says, “They’ll be lucky to have you lad. You’re an excellent soldier, loyal to a fault. Your commander has nothing but good things to say about you. And I myself have seen firsthand how courageous you are. I’ll send a letter of recommendation to my old colleague, Master Hughes. He’s the palace’s lead scholar. He should be able to help you further your studies and you’ll get to see more of the world. Hopefully, a better library than ours. You’re a bit wasted here lad.”

The Prince is a great source of interest and speculation for the citizens of Ravant. His marriage to King Edouard a man 30 years his senior had shocked the country. It wasn’t the age difference, for kings had married younger before, that was the most shocking. It was the fact that the Prince was a Xenali, a race from the West kept as slaves. Pleasure slaves to be precise.

Alerick like most people he knows has never seen one. They are a rich man’s playthings. Once he had learned of his new position he read anything he could on the Xenali. There wasn’t much. But he discovers they are a little smaller than humans with delicate features and pointed ears.

Alerick has had some small experience with people from the capital. There is a hot springs nearby Chermine frequented by those who came to bathe in the waters there. It is said to have restorative properties. Their strange way of speaking and outlandish mode of dress make them objects of derision amongst the locals. The same locals who are more than pleased to sell them food and drink at capital prices. But Alerick is willing to overlook that for his chance at a better more exciting life.

He’s practically vibrating with excitement as the wagon enters the city gates. The commoners are dressed much the same as they do in the South and are going about their business in an unremarkable manner. They pass a market where tables are set up with a variety of goods: vegetables, fruit and on the end a baker’s stand. A fishwife is shouting to a nearby friend, her laughter floats across the market. Alerick’s stomach grumbles, his simple breakfast of cheese and bread is but a distant memory.

Alerick stares in amazement as they approach the white marble palace. It’s huge, easily the largest building Alerick’s ever seen. Two high towers with bronze cupolas turning green in the sun rise above it overlooking the Azure Sea.

The farmer drops him off at the guard station where he reports to Captain Lambois. The Captain is a Southerner as well. Alerick notes his accent and that they share the same coloring dark eyes and hair and sun brown skin.

“I don’t have time to speak with you now. Jan will show you around, familiarize you with the palace and then take you to meet the Prince.”

“Yes sir, of course.”

Jan is a tall, thin man about ten years Alerick’s senior. He has kind eyes and a friendly mien.

He first takes Alerick to his new quarters where he stows his bag.

“You’ll be bunking with three other soldiers: Davin, Guy and Belliers. Be careful, Belliers cheats at cards.”

Jan gestures at a bar of soap next to the water basin. “Quickly, lad, wash up. It wouldn’t do to meet the Prince with the dust of the road on you.”

Alerick does so wiping his hands and face with a soft towel.

“Good, well let’s get started then.” Alerick follows Jan with alacrity. “This here is the King's guard’s station.”

Three soldiers are leaning against the building, when they spot them they give a desultory salute which he and Jan return.

“They’re not bad fellows,” Jan shrugs.

They walk up a huge marble staircase, at the top Jan points, “To the left are the King’s rooms and the Prince’s are here to the right.”

“They don’t sleep together?” Alerick asks, wide eyed as he takes it all in.

“No, lad,” Jan says with a laugh. Alerick doesn’t understand why that’s amusing.

“This is the Diamond Courtyard which we share guard duty with the King’s guard and down there are the gardens which are our responsibility.”

“Through here are the kitchens,” Jan gestures, “I’ll take you there afterwards so you can grab some lunch.”

“Down that hallway are the living chambers of the courtiers and this way are where the other Xenali are kept.”

Alerick notices that he says kept, not live, as if they were pets.

“We're going now to the throne room so you can meet his highness.”

Alerick is full of nervous excitement at the prospect, impressed with everything he’s seen so far. What would his mother say? Father think? He’s already planning his first letter home.

“And the King? Is he there as well?”

Jan shakes his head, “No his majesty is unwell and he stays mostly to his chambers.”

“This is the Gallery, it's extraordinary isn't it?”

“It is,” Alerick agrees, admiring the stained glass windows. From floor to ceiling they must be 40 feet each and half as much across. They depict nature scenes, gods and goddesses and some of Ravant’s history. Alerick is particularly taken by the one of The Battle of Downscourt Field, Queen Natalie’s victory over King Darias II. The vivid red of the queen’s hair framed against her white battle armor is especially striking. The lone and much smaller stained glass of the Three Saints in the main church in Chermine seems pitiful by comparison.

The windows stretch out throughout the entire hallway which Alerick estimates is over 200 feet long. At the end is the throne room which is huge and filled with lavish furniture and well-dressed courtiers in silk, brocades and outrageous wigs. Even more so than the ones who visit the hot springs in Chermine. Alerick doesn’t spend much time noticing them he’s eager to meet the Prince.

Jan approaches the center of the room where a figure is perched upon an ornate throne several feet above the ground. As they move closer Alerick can see it’s a young man, hair pulled atop his head in a long black tail. His face is heavily made up: a delicate pattern of flowers covers one side of it and trails down his throat. His eyes are purple, a color Alerick didn’t know it was possible for eyes to be, lined with silver paint, lashes the longest Alerick’s ever seen and to boot the tips are dotted with tiny silver beads. Alerick finds that his mouth is hanging open in astonishment and promptly closes it.

The young man’s body is slender and dressed so outrageously Alerick knows he's blushing a hot red. If he wasn't almost completely naked Alerick would have mistaken him for a woman. His shirt, if it can be called one, is sheer and unbuttoned and flares out around his hips. Miniscule black leather shorts barely cover his bottom and every part of him that Alerick can see is pierced and he presumes more he cannot. From the young man's nipples hang tiny silver hoops bejeweled with amethysts; his neck and his delicately pointed ears are likewise adorned.

He holds a black leather riding crop and his legs are encased in matching thigh high boots with the highest heels Alerick has ever seen. Alerick judges he is still over a foot taller than the young man, but his size doesn't matter. He commands attention, all eyes are on him and Alerick knows this must be his new master, the Prince.

Jan confirms this when he bows and says, “Your grace, this is your new guardsman, Alerick.”

The Prince says not a word just slowly looks Alerick up and down lingering on his groin and Alerick can only stand there embarrassed.

Glossy pink lips purse in a moue of distaste. "He's not as handsome as the last one," the Prince drawls in the affected capital accent Alerick has already come to hate.

Jan bows again and says, "Begging your pardon, your grace, but the last one was a drunkard and a thief."

"True," the Prince agrees tapping his thigh with his riding crop as he contemplates Alerick.

“I’m not sure if this one is a mountain or a man. He’s built like a bull is he not?”

“Yes, your grace,” Jan agrees.

The Prince leans down, his long hair falls against Alerick's face soft and silky; the scent of jasmine wafts over him.

"Where are you from, lad?"

"Chermine, your grace,” Alerick manages to answer.

"And where is that?"

"The South, your grace."

The Prince wrinkles his nose, "I should have known. You sound like a hayseed.”

Alerick startles as the Prince's hand curls around his bicep and squeezes. He smiles. “My, you are strong aren't you? I wonder if you have the stamina of a bull?”

“I… I don’t know um…thank you your grace,” Alerick stammers overwhelmed.

“Hmm, he'll do,” the Prince announces releasing Alerick’s arm. He then smacks Alerick on his backside with his riding crop hard enough to sting. Alerick jumps in surprise unable to keep from glaring at the Prince.

"Is there a problem, soldier?" the Prince’s eyes are sparkling, daring Alerick to object.

“No, your grace,” he manages to say.

“Good. Then you are dismissed!” the Prince says mockingly with a sharp salute.

As the Prince turns away, Alerick bows belatedly realizing he may have given offense.

Back in the grand hallway Jan gives him a sympathetic look.

“Sorry. Maybe I should have warned you ahead of time, but the look on your face it was priceless.” Jan grins at him.

“Is he always like that?” Alerick’s head is swimming with what he’d seen and heard.

“What the way he dresses or the way he acts?” Jan queries.

“Both.”

“The Prince can be a bit outrageous, but he’s a good man. He’s well liked and the position of guard in his household is highly sought after. Be careful there will be some who think your proximity will enable you to curry favor with his highness. And yes, all the Xenali dress that way. There are many perks to working in the castle,” Jan winks.

Alerick doesn’t reply.


	2. Dude Looks Like A Lady

The next day Alerick visits the palace tailor to be fitted for his new uniform. Unsurprisingly, it’s much grander than his city guard uniform: black breeches, black leather boots with silver tips, a white linen shirt, lace cravat and lambskin doublet. The doublet has the Prince’s crest: a purple peacock over a silver crown embroidered on it. A full brim hat with a small peacock feather completes it. He takes a look at himself in the mirror and is pleased with what he sees. Dashing his mother and sisters might say and wishes they could see him.

After his fitting Davin, Alerick’s bunkmate and partner in guard detail, takes him to the Atrium to be introduced to the rest of the Xenali. Davin is in his early thirties and has been a member of the Prince’s household for the past twelve years. Whip cord lean, black haired, with grey eyes he has a cheerful mien and a roguish smile.

On first entering the room Alerick stares in amazement. Every one of the Xenali is dressed like a lass, well one of ill repute, no lass he knows would dress so scantily. Leather, corsets and ruffled petticoats abound as do several dressed in skin tight... stockings is all Alerick can think of to describe them. They wear high heeled boots, he supposes, to boost their small stature. Each Xenali is covered in jewels, their faces heavily made up, painted like works of art. Altogether they resemble an exotic, brightly colored bouquet of flowers.

Before beginning the introductions Davin pauses to brief him, “Lord Remy is the senior cousin after the Prince. They’re particularly close so do your best not to offend him as he has the ear of the Prince more than any other.”

“Cousin? Are they all related then?”

“I couldn’t say,” Davin shrugs, “but it’s what they call each other. He’s not the most pleasant fellow either. Remember, try not to get on his bad side.”

Then much louder, “Lord Remy, may I present the Prince’s new guardsman, Alerick.”

Alerick bows, “Your lordship.”

Lord Remy’s hair is a pale blond and piled high on his head. Nestled inside is an ornate silver cage containing a small bird. It watches Alerick with tiny beady eyes. He’s not sure if the bird is real or not. He stares harder, yes a finch, it whistles at Alerick in what he feels is a mocking manner.

Alerick is careful to meet Lord Remy’s eyes and not chance another glance at his clothing which is extremely tight and practically nonexistent. A fine net mask dotted with pearls covers his eyes; he wrinkles his nose as he contemplates Alerick.

“And where did you find this one? He looks ill bred.”

“He’s from the South, your lordship and he came highly recommended. Top notch soldier and…”

“Yes, but who are his people?” Lord Remy interrupts haughtily.

Davin hastens to reassure him, “It’s true, your lordship that Alerick is not of noble birth but he has an excellent character.”

Lord Remy simply gazes at him for a long moment, in which Alerick tries not to fidget, finally saying, “We’ll see,” and abruptly turns his back on them.

One after the other Davin introduces the rest who Alerick is relieved to find are much nicer.

Lord Cherry has tiny cherries threaded throughout his dark hair and painted on his face. His lips are a deep shiny red. He winks at Alerick.

“Don’t mind, Remy, I prefer a country boy myself. A breath of fresh air and a most welcome addition to our household.”

Alerick can feel himself redden.

Lord Candy’s hair is a pale pink to match his skirts and his smile is slow and full of promise.

“I look forward to us becoming… better acquainted.”

“Um, yes… sir,” Alerick stammers.

Lord Candy laughs and says, “He’s blushing! How utterly charming.”

Introductions to Lords Kitty, Berry, Lacy, Nelly and Dolly follow.

“And this is the youngest cousin, Lord Daffy.”

Lord Daffy has a sweet smile but is every bit as flirtatious as the others. His skirts are yellow and very short, lace trimmed stockings with matching bows peek out from under them. His hair is a mass of daffodil yellow curls.

“So nice to meet you, Alerick. That’s a lovely name.”

Alerick manages to reply without stammering, “Thank you, sir. Yours is nice as well.”

“So polite,” Lord Daffy says, pleased.

“You are most welcome here,” Lord Daffy gestures at the room and it seems to include himself. Lord Daffy speaks with the same affected drawl as all nobles of the capital do but somehow he makes it sound almost pleasant.

On his next exposure to the Xenali Alerick realizes they follow a pattern of dress, a complement to their name. Lord Daffy’s hair is always yellow and daffodils frequently adorn his person. Lord Remy is known as the Pearl and so is covered in pearls. He’s grateful, for without it they are difficult to tell apart. They are so alike in their delicate features, small stature and prettiness.

The Prince is the exception. He follows no discernible pattern. One day his hair is a tumble of red curls, the next an intricate arrangement of blond braids. His outfits and maquillage are even more detailed than the others. If the Prince didn’t always carry his riding crop Alerick doubts he would be able to recognize him at all. Overall, they are silly creatures who spend all day from what Alerick can see gossiping, flirting and drinking champagne.

Since their first meeting the Prince hasn’t paid Alerick much attention other than comment on his uniform.

“Hmm, better, but…” he takes a moment to scrutinize Alerick, slowly walking around him, “I do believe the pants could be tighter.”

Alerick tries and fails to hide his affront over his ability to move and fight with restricting clothing

“Lad, he’s kidding you,” Davin says sotto voice.

He glances at the Prince and is relieved to see his smile is teasing.

The palace is the heart of the capital and at its center the Prince. Everything revolves around him: the schedule of the day for the entire court, not just Alerick and the other guards. There are frequent soirees, balls and private suppers attended by special guests, usually visiting dignitaries.

Alerick finds court confusing. There are many conversations and situations that go over his head. For one, he doesn’t fully understand the role of the Xenali. He knows they are pleasure slaves; he sees them flirt, but not much more. Most of their endeavors seem to take place behind closed doors. He’s thankful there are no public orgies as Davin had tried to convince him were a regular occurrence. But who exactly owns them he cannot figure out.

Today, Alerick stands guard with Davin on the south lawn next to a gaily striped tent under which the Prince, his cousins and the Grand Duke of Nuerre eat a light luncheon followed by lawn bowling.

As they await their turn the Prince twirls his parasol and smiles seductively up at the Duke.

Alerick is close enough to overhear “…trade… Metony…”

Metony is a country to the north Ravant has a long tumultuous history with.

“Metony has…” whatever he’s said the wind carries away…“your grace,” the Duke says.

“Yes, but we are so much friendlier than Metony, aren’t we?” The Prince asks archly.

“Yes,  you are,” the Duke agrees as he kisses the Prince’s hand.

The party continues on into the night moving to the special dining room used only by the Prince and any guests he might invite. 

That evening Belliers and Guy arrive to relieve them. As the door closes Alerick sees the Prince is sitting on the Duke’s lap feeding him bits of fruit while laughing brightly. Last week it was the Prince of Jiva’s lap he’d sat upon.

Alerick doesn’t think it's right that the Prince flirts and more when he has a husband. The king he has seen briefly and only from a distance pushed in a chair upon the south lawn. Their marriage is certainly nothing like his parents.

 Master Hughes has turned out to be a disappointment. When Alerick first presented himself he had read Master Duvall’s letter of recommendation, then made a rude noise.

“What’s this nonsense? I don’t have time to be coddling a boy from some backwoods town.”

“I don’t need coddling, sir and I could be of some help to you.”

“Alright, I could use your help with something.”

“Yes, sir, what is it?” Alerick asks, eagerly

“Go to the kitchen and get me some of that trifle we had for afters. I’m feeling peckish.”

Alerick sighs.

Master Hughes has grudgingly allowed Alerick to read the few books he keeps in his chambers but ignores his request for access to the library.

“Youth is wasted on the young, lad. If I were your age I’d be busy chasing the kitchen lasses not reading a bunch of musty old books.”

“Master Duvall said you were a learned scholar,” Alerick responds testily.

“And what good did it ever do me?” Master Hughes shuffles over to his chair, “Old and alone with only a fool of a boy for company.”

“Well, how are you settling in? Your master is pretty to look upon, eh lad? And his cousins? I wish I had your job,” Master Hughes says with a leer that turns his craggy face even uglier.

“The Prince seems inconstant,” Alerick tries diplomatically, “I never see him with the king.”

“Bah, you understand nothing of your betters. Ravant’s the wealthiest most secure country in the land a great deal due in part to the Xenali, especially the Prince.”

“Yes sir,” Alerick agrees resentfully.

“Now go boy and fetch me some wine. They keep the cellars locked but,” he regards Alerick cannily, “you must have the key?”

“No sir, I do not and even if I did I wouldn’t…”

Master Hughes interrupts, “You’re a killjoy if ever I’ve seen one, boy.”

“I am not, sir I just…”

“Go on to the kitchen with you,” Master Hughes interrupts again, “flirt a bit with Heidi, she’ll set you up. You do know how to flirt don’t you?”

“Um,” Alerick hesitates.

“Hopeless,” Master Hughes gripes. “Well, go on, what are you waiting for?”

Alerick has gotten to know the head cook Heidi fairly well by now. She’s close in age with Alerick’s mother and has taken a liking to him.

“That old reprobate. He drinks us out of house and home,” Heidi grumbles. “He can have some ale, but no wine until next month, he knows his ration well enough.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her expression softens. “Here,  sit down, love, I’ll get you some pie. Apple or blueberry?”

“Apple please,” Alerick settles onto the bench.

She’s back quickly and sets it down, then sits down across from him. The pie is delicious and he digs in.

“You’re a sweet boy. You miss your family don’t you?”

“Yes ma’am but I’m glad to be here. There’s not much to do in Chermine.”

“Well, there’s plenty to do here especially if you have the means,” she replies ruefully.

When he’s finished eating Heidi hands Alerick a few bottles of ale.

“Here you are love, that old codger won’t be too fussy with you I hope.”

“Yes ma’am, thank you,” Alerick takes them carefully and bids her goodnight.


	3. Old McDonald Had A Farm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: non graphic joking conversation about bestiality. No actual on or off screen bestiality.

On his days off Alerick roams the city excited to explore his new home. Mummers plays, exotic foods, book shops and museums are all on his list. Sometimes Guy, one of his bunkmates, accompanies him to the market eager to sample the farmers’ wares and flirt with their daughters. They try with Alerick but make little progress. He’s only been kissed once (by a tavern lass) and he didn’t much care for it.

His excitement over discovering Ludden’s Book Emporium is immense. He gapes like the country yokel he is at the sight of so many books in one place all together. Chermine boasts of only one, not well stocked bookstore. Alerick longs for the 'Encyclopédie', reverently paging through several of its many books before regretfully placing them back on the shelf. How wonderful it would be to own it! Sadly the cost is five gold coins, an impossible sum for a young guardsman. It would take years to save up for it. 'The Starteller' is a bit more in his price range at two silver coins but it will still take several months of economizing.

Alerick visits the capital’s museum carefully studying the works of art on display. There are statues and paintings of famous figures of Ravant’s history, some of the same scenes in the palace’s stained glass windows. He’s delighted to see paintings of philosophers of the Ancient Age. One in particular catches his eye of a woman and two men dressed in the classical style in a garden under a star filled sky: Asyne and her pupils Pityr and Sophus.

Even though Alerick has some misgivings about the Prince he is proud to be the guard of such an influential man. It never fails to astonish him that such a small person can have such a big presence. Alerick fully understands the expression “larger than life” now. Wherever the Prince goes courtiers trail behind him begging for any attention.

“Supper, your grace?” Alerick has learned is an entreatment for an invitation to dine with the Prince in his private chambers. To receive one is the height of social achievement Davin informs him. Alerick is beginning to get into the step of things at court with Davin’s help even if it is crude at times.

“Why do they wear such ridiculous outfits?” Alerick asks as they guard the Prince during an audience.

Davin chuckles “Fashion, my lad, it’s called fashion. The higher up you are in rank the better you’re allowed to dress. There’s a dress code they have to follow of who can wear what, the kind of fabric by rank. You can’t wear fur if you’re of lower rank than an earl or satin for anyone beneath a baroness.”

Alerick gives him a flat look. “You’re joking.”

“There’s a booklet with the rules if you’re interested,” Davin says, “You like books don’t you?”

“That’s alright.”

“See, the Xenali have always dressed this way, it's tradition, and the courtiers do their best to emulate them.” Davin goes on to explain, “Some of these idiots would dress as scantily, but it isn’t done. Thank fuck, most don’t have the figures for it. Could you see Lady Nan tricked out like Lord Candy?”

Alerick glances over to where her ladyship in a conversation with Lord Candy. Her skirts are shorter and filmier than any lady Alerick’s ever seen before. She’s eighty if she’s a day and very fat.

“Now, on the other hand Lady Mari and Lady Jane,” Davin nods in the direction of two young attractive brunettes, “that I’d enjoy, twins,” he whispers with a leer.

They jump to attention as the Prince climbs down from his throne and sweeps out of the room, Lord Remy at his side. Alerick is used to being bigger than most people. At twelve he was taller than his father and older brothers, but until now he’s never met such a small man. The Prince is barely taller than Alerick’s tiny mother and much slimmer. In his ridiculously high heels the top of his head just reaches Alerick’s shoulder. Alerick is afraid he’s going to fail at his job by stepping on the Prince and injuring him. It doesn’t help that Lord Remy seems to share his concern.

“I can scarcely walk without fearing this great lummox will trip over one of us and crush us to death,” Lord Remy’s nose is stuck up in the air, his dislike of Alerick apparent.

“Cousin,” the Prince drawls, “you, complaining that a man is too large? I never thought I’d see the day.”

Lord Remy smirks, “There’s large, my dear and then there’s excessive. Davin, you come walk by me.”

“Yes, your lordship,” Davin answers as he complies.

It’s a bit of an awkward dance as the guards change places and Alerick nearly does tread on Lord Remy’s skirt. He knows if he did he’d never hear the end of it.

The Prince shakes his head in amusement. “There my love, is that better?”

Overall life at the palace is rather less exciting than Alerick was hoping for. His fellow soldiers are coarse and unimaginative and seemingly obsessed with sex. Every night is spent discussing different members of the household both commoner and aristocrat. A popular topic of conversation is the Xenali, in particular the Prince.

One evening some of the guardsmen sit outside in the courtyard sharing a bottle of wine and bread. Davin takes a swig then says, “I'd get the Prince on his back legs in the air fuck him hard. Show him how a real man does it.”

Whistles and laughs of approval follow from the others.

Alerick sighs. Another boring fantasy. He could come up with something much more interesting if he were so inclined.

"How about you?” Davin inquires.

Alerick makes a face, “I'll pass.”

“What! You don't want to?” Belliers says, incredulously

“No, he's not to my taste. If I wanted a woman in my bed I'd get a real one.”

At the sound of tinkling laughter a chill runs down Alerick’s spine. He turns to see the Prince and Lord Remy standing behind him. As usual they both have more naked skin on display than Alerick has ever seen outside of a bathhouse. He quickly jumps to his feet and makes a low bow.

“Oh, ho cousin,” Lord Remy says. “Did you hear that?”

“I did, my love and I am quite stung,” the Prince tosses his head, long blond curls bounce fetchingly down his bare shoulders. He's covered in his usual jewelry, amethysts threaded through his hair and his eyes twinkle with amusement.

“Your grace, I meant no offense,” Alerick stammers out an apology.

“No,” the Prince shakes his head graciously, “you have every right to your opinion.”

Alerick begins to feel a bit relieved when the Prince turns to Lord Remy, “My dear, did you know that Alerick is from the country?”

“Of course he is. A well fed farmer's son no doubt,” Lord Remy says, contemptuously.

“Precisely, cousin and I expect he has a taste for...” the Prince leans in closer and says, conspiratorially “… a buxom wench.”

“And you are lacking in tits cousin,” Lord Remy points out.

“I am indeed.”

“But, I disagree, cousin. I feel this young man leans towards...”

“Bulging muscles and bulging cocks?” The Prince asks, curiously.

“Well, don't let him see yours, cousin he may well change his mind about you.” Lord Remy says with a leer. “But, no. You see in the countryside the air is fresh...”

"Except for the stench of shit and farm animals, my dear," the Prince points out.

“Farm animals.” Lord Remy taps his chin contemplatively. “That is it. I feel sure this lad has an affinity, so to speak, for farm animals.”

“Cousin, you can't possibly mean this boy prefers to fuck... sheep, cows...?” The Prince peers up at Alerick questioningly.

“I was thinking more of chickens.”

"Chickens!" The Prince lets out a startled laugh. "My dear is that even possible?"

"You know I'm not sure,” Lord Remy tilts his head thoughtfully. “Yet, I feel a lad as forthright as this one could manage it."

“I quite take your meaning cousin.”

The Prince pulls on Alerick's cravat forcing his head down. Soft lips brush his ear and Alerick can't stop a shiver.

"Remember the walls have ears, my sweet,” the Prince whispers, “and stay away from my... chickens."

The Prince releases Alerick so fast he stumbles back a step then smacks his bottom with the riding crop, "Come my, love,” he takes Lord Remy's hand, “we're late for supper."

“Oh lad, your face! Tag teamed by the Prince and the Pearl,” Davin groans in appreciation.

“I wish!” Belliers cries.

From then on Alerick is known as the chicken fucker although Belliers never clucks at him again after the first time. When Alerick moves to punch him the Captain shouts, “Stop! This is conduct unbecoming a guardsman!” He gives Alerick and Belliers a month of mucking out the stables as punishment.

The Captain takes Alerick aside. “Soldier, you have to grow a thicker skin or do you want to be relieved of your duties? Sent home?”

“No sir!” Alerick denies fervently.

“Listen, lad this life isn’t for everyone,” he says sternly. “Court is very different from Chermine. I understand. I’m also from the South and it was difficult at first for me to make the adjustment. So, I’ll ask you again: do you want to be dismissed?”

“No sir! Absolutely not sir!”

“Alright then, carry on and remember what I said.”

“Yes sir!” Alerick salutes him.

After that Alerick gets used to daily slaps and smacks from the Prince. He even learns how not to flinch.

Lord Remy tosses his long silver hair over one leather clad shoulder and says appreciatively, “You've quite whipped this one.”

The Prince’s chestnut curls are swept back from his face with golden combs. His dress is made of a sparkly gold material that slips down one of his creamy white shoulders and barely covers his groin. So far Alerick has seen more ridiculous fantastical costumes than he’s ever dreamt existed, but never yet complete nudity from one of the Xenali. He’s grateful, his face stays red enough as it is.

“No, I don't think I have,” The Prince regards Alerick thoughtfully, “I suspect he may be untamable, cousin.”

“My dear, don't give me ideas,” Lord Remy smiles archly.

“So you're saying you wish to rein him in?” The Prince inquires.

“I am,” Lord Remy’s eyes gleam.

“Put him on his knees.”

The Prince stares meaningfully until Alerick kneels before him, keeping his expression carefully blank.

“Intriguing,” the Prince drawls. “For once be the bigger man.” He pats Alerick on the head. It’s strange to have the Prince looking down at him for once.

“Cousin, don't be silly, you know you're always the bigger man.”

“Flattery my sweet,” the Prince blows Lord Remy a kiss.

Lord Remy pretends to catch it, “Truth my dear.”

The Prince runs his fingers through Alerick's hair tugging a bit. He’s surprised at the little frisson of pleasure it gives him; the Prince smiles knowingly then steps back. “Dismissed, soldier!” he salutes Alerick his eyes sparkling with mirth.

When he’s back at his post, Davin grins at him. ‘I think you must be his favorite. He never does that to me or any of the other guards.”

Alerick grimaces. “That anyone would like that kind of attention.”

“I would. He could beat me near to death with that crop of his and I'd beg for more,” Davin says with a salacious smile.

“You're sick,” Alerick says in disgust.


	4. You Say It's Your Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Prince's Birthday Party

For weeks the palace staff has been preparing for the Prince’s birthday. From the decorations which are being overseen by Mrs. Giles, the Prince’s head decorator, to the lowest scullion of Heidi’s bustling kitchen. Alerick and the rest of guard have been boning up on security for handling an influx of strangers into the palace.

Fabulous gifts from different countries have begun arriving and the ones the Prince doesn’t want to keep in his rooms or wear the day of the party have to be carefully stored in the guard house under lock and key. Alerick is astonished at the amount of the gifts and long lists of countries and regions that are represented.

The courtiers and the Xenali do nothing but discuss the plans for the festivities. Lords Daffy and Candy keep changing their minds about what they’ll be wearing. Many trips are made to the dressmaker, milliner and tailor. It seems to Alerick that the Prince is spending days in there. He’s afraid to know what the Prince’s wearing that could top the costumes Alerick’s seen him in thus far.

Davin and Alerick are helping Mrs. Giles hang up strands of lights when Alerick asks, “How old is the Prince going to be?”

Davin thinks for a minute, “Thirty-seven or thirty-eight, but don’t let him hear you asking or you’ll really be in for it, lad.”

Alerick glances around quickly but the coast is clear. He makes a sigh of relief.

“That old?” he says, incredulously, “The cosmetics must hide a lot.”

“No lad, they don’t age like us. It’s more like he’s to be twenty-five, I suppose.”

This shocks Alerick even more. “So he was married when he was a child?”

“No,” Davin scoffs, “it’s hard to explain. “He was young yes, but not a child.”

“Shite,” Davin mutters as Alerick turns to see who he’s caught sight of. He quickly grabs his halberd and stands at attention. Alerick follows suit.

A dark haired young man, good looking in a florid manner, but with a weak chin is approaching them. Courtiers are bowing and greeting him, “Good day, your highness. Good to see you back.”

This must be Archduke Maximillian Percival, the king’s nephew and heir who will become regent on his next birthday. He’s been away visiting his wife’s family in Deron, a country to the east of Ravant.

The Archduke comes to stand in front of Davin and Alerick who bow low.

“Where is Lord Juley, Davin? I have much to tell him.”

“The Prince is busy at the moment, your highness,” Davin says politely, his expression mild.

“Busy? Busy doing what?” The Archduke scoffs.

“I couldn’t say, your highness.”

“I daresay on his back or his knees doing the only thing he’s good for.”

Alerick’s hackles rise, he grips his halberd tighter at the insult to the Prince.

“Well, we’ll catch up at his party. I’ve brought in my chef, he’s much better than Heidi. He’ll be making something extra special for Lord Juley’s dinner.” This is said with a mean laugh.

“Yes, your highness,” Davin bows.

Not long after he’d arrived at the palace Davin had explained to Alerick that the Archduke’s wife was a Deronian princess, the youngest sister of the present king. A politically advantageous marriage, the couple had wed at only sixteen, both now were close to their majority.

“Ugly woman. Horse faced, shrill voiced and mean as a fucking snake. Watch out for her lad, she hates the Xenali, especially the Prince. The Archduke’s got a wandering eye and hand if he can get away with it. She keeps him on a tight lease for now, but something tells me when he ascends he’ll do as he pleases. First one he’ll go after, mark my word, will be the Prince.”

 The night of the Prince’s party the palace is alight with excitement.Davin and Alerick stand guard just outside the Prince’s apartments awaiting his appearance when the door swings open. Alerick had thought he’d seen everything, that he was unable to be shocked at this juncture as his mouth gapes open at the Prince’s appearance. Davin lets out a low whistle.

The Prince’s face is painted with the most intricate designs Alerick has seen yet, highlighting his delicate, otherworldly beauty. His hair is a mass of bright purple curls, strands pulled away from his face with silver combs and the rest spilling down his back to his waist. Threaded throughout it are silk flowers, leaves and butterflies. Atop it is a silver crown with an amethyst the size of an egg set into it.

His costume is deceptively simple: a diaphanous scrap of silver cloth which can only be described as a shift. The shadow of the Prince’s slim figure is clearly visible and it barely covers his bottom. Alerick can’t figure out how the Prince will be able to sit down without exposing himself completely. He can only hope there is some kind of undergarment involved, but cannot be certain.

Large silver beaded wings sprout from his back, they sparkle as the light hits them. He wears even more jewelry than usual, his small hands all but overwhelmed with rings and bracelets. Around his slender throat is a priceless diamond necklace from the Beijish. The matching earrings dangle from his ears. The Prince’s legs are encased in thigh high purple stockings trimmed with silver bows and boots with the highest heels Alerick’s ever seen the Prince wear.

His lashes are long and purple, the tips encrusted with tiny silver beads. Alerick can’t believe the Prince can even see but he saunters around easily as ever. Alerick is amazed at how it’s possible for a person to do so covered in so much…stuff.

As always Lord Remy is not far behind, his costume is also more elaborate than usual. His long silver hair flows down his bare back to his waist and the train of his sea green, white lace trimmed skirt trails behind him. A painted pattern of greenish-blue scales cover his high cheekbones and Alerick realizes his lordship is dressed as a mermaid. His jewelry is a shell motif of various precious metals and stones primarily pearls, per his nickname. Alerick quickly averts his eyes from Lord Remy’s bare chest and his nipples pierced with hoops covered in seed pearls

In the receiving line are the many lords and ladies eager to bow and curtsy and speak a few words to the Prince. When the majordomo announces Lady Brianna Mamet the Prince visibly perks up.

Lady Mamet is hands down the largest women Alerick has ever seen. She’s nearly as tall as he is. She strides forward, her swagger is almost like a man’s. There is nothing delicate or gentle about her. Her face is plain but not unpleasing: blonde hair coiled up into a simple twist. She wears no cosmetics and very little jewelry.

She curtseys. “Madame you are very fine tonight,” the Prince says as he regards her admiringly.

“Thank you your grace,” she looks amused as the Prince takes her hand in his.

“You have been greatly missed,” he kisses her hand lingeringly.

“Have I?” Alerick is shocked when he realizes the Prince is sincerely interested.

“Indeed. I would be happy to show you just how much,” the Prince replies, his smile predatory.

Lady Mamet shakes her head. “And I thought you were better at seduction than that, but then looking the way you do I expect you never have to try very hard do you?”

“My dear,” the Prince says, “all men are made fools of in front of such beauty.”

“Yours or mine I wonder, your grace?” The smile she gives him is almost fond.

“Take some wine with me and I promise to do a better job of seducing you.” The Prince’s voice has become huskier, the light in his eyes brighter.

“By getting me drunk? Seems unsophisticated to me, but then I am a simple woman. Besides, I could never bed a man who is prettier than me, your grace. I mean look at this hair,” she tugs gently at a curl.

The Prince persists, “Let us retire to my bed chamber, my dear and I will gladly remove everything until there is no doubting my masculinity.”

“Maybe another time, your grace,” she curtseys.

“Hmm, what a woman,” the Prince says as he watches her walk away.

Lord Remy laughs and says, “Failed to score again my love? Will you never learn?”

“Never, my dear, one day you’ll see. I shall climb her like a mountain reaching the peak and planting my flag deep inside.”

“Well, Alerick I hope you’ve learned something here tonight,” Lord Remy says.

“Your lordship?” He asks unhappy to be drawn into their conversation. Does Lord Remy mean his new knowledge of the Prince’s interest in women?

“How not to woo a woman.”

The Prince thankfully offers no comment as he seems too occupied with watching Lady Mamet.

Afterwards dinner is served. The courses are more plentiful and extravagant than Alerick’s ever seen at a court feast. It’s served on the Diamond service Heidi had told him was only used for the highest events The main course is a peacock served in its own plumage, tail fanned out as it was in life. Alerick is watching the Prince as it’s brought in his face troubled for a second then all smiles.

The Archduke smirks as he raises his glass in a toast. “To my Uncle Juley, may he stay forever young. I hope you enjoy this dish, I had my chef brought in to prepare it just for you.”

“I’m certain I shall, dear nephew,” The Prince says, “You’re always so thoughtful.”

The cake is a lavender and amethyst colored monstrosity twenty layers high covered with sugared flowers, leaves and butterflies to match the Prince’s hair. Alerick and Davin are each given a piece by Lord Candy who feeds Davin his first forkful with a flirtatious smile. Davin licks his lips as he looks Lord Candy over who with a wink rejoins the dance.

“Delicious isn’t it, boy?” Davin says with a broad grin.

Alerick just shakes his head and finishes his cake which is a rich dark chocolate with a cherry filling. They hand over their plates to a kitchen lass who pauses a while to flirt with them. Her eyes promise much, but at Alerick’s lack of response she flounces away.

The gifts have been brought out of the guard house for the night and are on display, many from other nations. Fine Bavarrthen cloth, silks from Hallode and the finely knitted lace from the Aleynn region.

The dances are nothing like the simple country ones Alerick is used to back home. The steps are intricate and difficult to follow and at times become more than a little obscene. Later in the evening the dances become easier to do, but definitely more risqué and soon it seems to Alerick the participants are simply rutting against each other.

Alerick watches the Prince dance with Lady Mamet and they don’t look as ridiculous together as he would have thought. She however manages to elude the Prince’s wandering hands. He receives a smack on one from her fan which he accepts with good humor. Alerick can’t help feeling vindictive seeing the Prince being on the receiving end of a hit for once.

As soon as it’s dark the guests adjourn to the veranda to watch a firework display. Alerick is thrilled, he’s never seen one before and is surprised by how loud they are. It sounds too much like musket or cannon fire for his liking and he can’t stop glancing around, nervous for Prince. The last display spells out the Prince’s name in huge purple letters with a final firework shaped like a peacock.

The party is winding down and it’s very early in the morning. The Prince is laughing so hard he’s wiping tears from his eyes. Alerick doesn’t know what Lord Remy has said, he’s just grateful that for once he’s not the butt of the joke.

The Prince stumbles a bit and alarmed Alerick reaches for him but he lists towards Lord Remy. It seems he’s had too much to drink which is something Alerick realizes he’s never seen the Prince do before. Alerick supposes on birthdays it’s allowed. The Prince has taken off his wings at some point during the evening’s festivities and they dangle from one hand.

“Give me those,” Lord Remy says taking the wings from the Prince, “you’re crushing them.”

“Well, I think you’ve had the proverbial one too many,” Lord Remy announces, “Time to put you to bed, my dear.”

“Remy, you’re quite forward tonight,” the Prince informs him with a leer.

“Oh hush,” Lord Remy says as the Prince leans heavily against him, “let’s go.”

Alerick and Davin follow. They’ve barely made it out of the ballroom when the Prince slips from Lord Remy’s side to lie on the floor.

He announces, “I’m too tired to walk, I shall sleep here tonight.”

 Davin laughs and says, “Your grace, you won’t be comfortable, I’ll warrant. C’mon up with you now.” He reaches to take the Prince by the hand.

The Prince pulls away. “No, I’m unable to take another step.”

He lets out a big yawn and with his scrunched up nose he reminds Alerick of a kitten. It’s cute. Which is not a word he usually thinks of when describing the Prince.

“Remy, tell them.”

Lord Remy simply says, “Alerick, pick up my silly cousin.”

Alerick squats down and scoops the Prince up. The Prince makes a pleased sound as he winds his arms around Alerick’s neck.

“This is nice,” he purrs, “I should have you carry me everywhere I go from now on.”

“Yes, your grace.” The Prince’s skin is flawless and up close his eyes are incredible: huge and purple. Alerick has trouble believing anyone can have such an eye color, it must be a Xenali trait.

“Yes, your grace,” the Prince repeats, copying Alerick’s accent. Alerick startles at how different he sounds.

“You’re always so serious, so solemn, so chaste.” He trails one finger down the side of Alerick’s neck grinning at Alerick’s involuntary shiver.

“It’s called clean living, cousin,” Lord Remy advises.

“We’ll have to corrupt you somehow, my chickadee,” the Prince says tapping him lightly on the cheek.

They’ve reached the Prince’s chambers, his valet opens the door with a great sigh, “Bring him in.”

“I’m quite drunk, Jasper,” the Prince informs him happily, kicking his feet a bit.

“I can see that your grace,” Jasper says, repressively.

Alerick is curious having never seen the inside of the Prince’s bedchamber. The bed is huge. A small family could easily fit in it. A purple satin duvet with piles of pillows embroidered with the Prince’s crest covers it. Paintings line the walls. One catches Alerick’s attention, a woman and two men dressed in the classical style in a garden before star filled night. It’s very similar to the one at Museum of Aysne and her students Pityr and Sophus.

The ceiling is painted like a summer sky, but when Jasper dims the lights it’s now the night sky with tiny stars and planets that glow in the dark. Alerick is envious and annoyed by such a display wasted on the Prince who he doubts could name a single constellation.

Alerick sets him down gently on the bed and the Prince curls up in a ball his shift riding up revealing his bare bottom with a thin silver string tucked into the shadow between. Unfortunately, due to an incident involving Lord Candy, a windy day and a flipped up skirt that Davin had enjoyed immensely, Alerick knows the undergarment is called, a thong. He quickly looks away.

“Hmm, I’m sleepy.”

“You’ll be sorry you slept in all this rig, my dear, devilishly uncomfortable,” Lord Remy informs him.

“Help me with his boots, lad,” Jasper orders Alerick as Lord Remy starts removing the Prince’s jewelry.

Alerick begins to unlace the Prince’s boots.

“That tickles,” the Prince says and giggles, a surprising, undignified noise, “Alerick! Stop tickling me!”

“Sorry, your grace I didn’t mean to,” he releases the Prince’s foot handing the boots to Jasper.

Alerick’s hand brushes against the Prince’s silk stockings, they feel just as sumptuous as they appear. He takes note of the different textures: the fine lace at the top, the satin bows. Without being asked Alerick finds himself stripping them off, but neither Lord Remy nor Jasper seem to have any objection.

Alerick can’t help but notice the Prince has beautiful legs, well muscled, not thin and boyish as he would have guessed, with shapely elegant feet.

The Prince continues to giggle and protest kicking his legs a bit and Alerick again can’t help thinking it’s cute he imagines as if watching a tiger play like a house cat.

Davin nods towards the Prince where Lord Remy’s hands have moved to the clasp of the Prince’s gown, “I could help with that, your lordship.”

“No, I don’t think so. Unlike this one I fear you’d get too much out of it. In fact that’s good enough gentlemen, good night.”

Outside the door Davin claps his hands together.

“I love this job! The way you had your hands practically up his skirt, you lucky lad.”

Alerick glances away unsettled and is very glad to see Belliers and Guy when they come to relieve them.

Strangely, Alerick is back in the Prince’s bedchamber. He sees the Prince lying on the bed, the shift riding up uncovering his bare bottom. He watches as the prince rolls over onto his back, he stretches making a little noise of pleasure. The same noise he’d made when Alerick had picked him up.

Alerick kneels taking one of the Prince’s legs in his hand slowly pulling the boot off. He rolls down the stockings enjoying the feel of the silk flowing through his hands. Alerick presses a kiss to the inside of the Prince’s knee. The skin there is rose petal soft, creamy white, flawless. The Prince makes the same noise again yet this time it’s more erotic.

Alerick moves towards him, puts his knee on the bed crawls up it to lie atop the Prince. The Prince smiles and wraps his arms around him then they are kissing passionately like Alerick has never kissed anyone before. The Prince parts his legs and Alerick settles between them and the Prince gasps for breath wrapping them firmly around Alerick. His lips part invitingly, he begs softly, “Alerick… please.”

The Prince is beautiful, while his skin is soft the muscle underneath is firm. He feels more solid than Alerick would have supposed. His shaft finds a hardness to meet his own; the Prince’s body is definitely not that of a woman’s. Alerick presses him down further into the bed excited by the feel of the Prince writhing in pleasure under him. The feeling of dominating such a powerful person is making him drunk with desire.

Then they’re naked, as if magic their clothes have melted away. It makes no sense but Alerick doesn’t pause to think on it, can’t think, he’s too caught up in their embrace. He shifts, slides inside the Prince easily although he’s never made love to anyone before. It seems his body knows what to do.

The Prince spreads his legs wider to take Alerick in deeper and meets his thrusts with a snap of his hips. The sensation of another body against Alerick’s overwhelms him causing his hips to stutter. They are both gasping for breath unable to kiss any longer just breathe against each other’s mouths. Alerick drives into the Prince over and over. Just as they are about to reach completion- Alerick can feel a great roaring in his body, in his blood, he’s so close to finding his release when he’s awakened.

Disoriented Alerick realizes several things: it’s morning and he’s in his bunk. It’s Reveille! He quickly turns over so no one can see his erection. He feels flushed, confused and grateful he’s not on guard duty today. He’s afraid that the Prince (or Lord Remy) will somehow know and thoroughly mock him for his dream. Why did he have such a dream about the Prince?


	5. Now I'm a Believer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alerick makes a new friend.

Several days after the Prince’s party Alerick is back on guard duty and spares a moment to worry about the possible mind reading abilities of the Prince or Lord Remy. They completely ignore him so it seems his fears are unfounded and his secret is safe. As he watches the Prince wrap yet another foreign dignitary around his little finger, Alerick’s heartily relieved to find he feels no differently towards him. It was simply a stupid dream after all and he puts it from his mind.

Now, he’s spent another boring night helping Master Hughes with his “research” which consists mostly of listening to him ramble on about one thing or another (rarely anything of educational value) and bringing him treats he’s wrangled out of Heidi or one of the kitchen lasses. Upon seeing how lonely the old man was Alerick hadn’t the heart to refuse and he doesn’t mind some time away from his fellow soldiers. He notes Master Hughes has dozed off and with a heartfelt sigh Alerick escapes.

He’s passing by the kitchen when he spots Heidi speaking to a small figure: a Xenali boy.

Alerick cannot hear their conversation but Heidi smiles and kisses the boy on the cheek then leaves.

There he sits at the table eating a simple sandwich. Alerick has never seen a Xenali eat something so plain, so substantial. It’s as if they are exotic flowers who survive off air, sunlight and a great deal of champagne.

The boy is fresh faced and pale skinned with brown curls, delicate features and pointed ears. He is indisputably Xenali, but like none that Alerick has ever seen before. This one is truly beautiful. If they all are like this under their paint, he finally understands the appeal. The boy, he appears young at least to Alerick’s eyes (but a Xenali's age can be deceiving) wears simple clothing of the type worn by commoners: dark breeches, a plain linen shirt and waistcoat, no jewelry. The clothing is a bit large on him and is buttoned up to his throat and down to his wrists.

Alerick has never before felt such a sudden and intense interest in another person. Hesitant to break the spell, but he must know this boy he moves closer as if compelled. The boy has spotted him and is regarding him warily so Alerick smiles as friendly as possible holding his hands up. He knows his appearance is sometimes alarming, his job at times is to intimidate, but the last thing he wants is for this boy to be afraid of him.

“Good evening,” he nods, “that looks good.”

Seeming to have decided to allow Alerick’s approach the boy raises one prefect brow unimpressed and takes another bite.

“I'm Alerick.” He stands next to the table unsure as to how welcome his sitting down would be. He towers over the boy who after his initial wariness now seems unconcerned by Alerick’s presence.

The boy simply stares as he swallows, then continues to eat as if he were still alone. Alerick finds himself wanting to make an impression on him.

“I'm a guardsman in the Prince's household,” he says proudly, tapping the crest over his heart and puffing out his chest a bit.

“I can see that,” the boy says, flatly.

“And you are?” He takes heart that the boy is talking to him now.

"Hungry." The boy returns to eating.

“Sorry, I just meant I've never seen you before,” he shifts from foot to foot awkwardly.

This earns him a laugh, “Haven't you?”

“No, I definitely would have remembered you,” Alerick says, knowing he's blushing.

The boy still looks amused. His eyes sparkle over the rim of the glass he’s drinking from. They are as blue as the summer sky.

What's your name?” Alerick asks.

“You're very nosy,” the boy complains.

“Please,” entreats him hands pressed together as if in prayer, a supplicant to beauty.

The boy sighs loudly, “I'm Louis.”

“Good to meet you, Louis,” he says hugely pleased. “May I sit down?”

“If you wish,” Louis shrugs and now finished with his meal he rises, taking the plate and cup with him.

“Wait, where are you going?” Alerick asks, alarmed, seeing his chance of getting to know Louis disappearing.

“I'm just putting these in the sink. You really are very nosy,” Louis informs him with exasperation.

Alerick follows Louis through the door to the kitchen proper and watches him rinse off the plate and cup.

“Do you work in the kitchen?” Alerick finds there’s a fascination in watching a Xenali do something so mundane.

“Do I-?” surprised, then amused Louis says, “No, I do not work in the kitchen.”

For the life of him Alerick can't stop following Louis as he leaves the kitchen. He’s fascinated by everything about him as he’s never been with anyone before. When he’s around the Prince or the other Xenali he is much larger than they. Alerick is used to being larger than most people he meets. The top of the Prince’s head- even when wearing his highest heels barely reaches Alerick’s shoulder.

Louis is even shorter. The top of his head doesn’t quite reach Alerick’s chest and he seems even smaller, not having the larger than life presence the Prince does. None of the outrageousness of his costumes, his huge overwhelming personality. Alerick is afraid he’s going to step on Louis and moves carefully.

As if he can read Alerick’s mind Louis draws himself up to his full height and his expression becomes annoyed.

“Shouldn't you be on duty or in the barracks?”

“I've just come from Master Hughes'. I help him with his um…research and I avoid my room as much as possible. My bunkmates…” Alerick makes a face.

“What?” Louis asks his annoyance morphs into curiosity.

“All they want to do is drink and gamble and tell ribald stories,” Alerick says in disgust.

“Sounds exactly like what I would imagine soldiers do in their spare time,” Louis says, mockingly.

“Not me!” he’s affronted to be lumped in the same category as Belliers and Davin.

“Oh really? And what do you do in your spare time, pray tell? Annoy people you've just met? Loom over them? Follow them about asking nosy questions?” Louis asks, his eyes flashing. He’s back to being irritated at him and Alerick is afraid he’s about to lose any chance he has at getting to know Louis better.

“My main interests are Philosophy and Astronomy, but I also enjoy mathematics.”

Alerick doesn’t know what he expects. He partly says it out of a need to impress Louis and true frustration with not having anyone to talk to. And he’s not even sure if this would be impressive. He has no idea what Louis finds interesting, but he seems intelligent.

Louis regards him solemnly for a moment, “And what is your opinion on luminiferous aether?”

“Oh,” Alerick is filled with exultation. He’s never had anyone ask him that, not even Master Duvall, “I don’t believe there’s any real independent evidence to support its existence.”

Louis stares at him in disbelief, “Then you believe one body may act upon another at a distance through a vacuum without the mediation of anything else?”

“I do in fact…They walk through the Gallery wrapped up in their discussion and Alerick hasn’t been this happy in he doesn’t know when. As they pass the King’s Clock it chimes: midnight.

Louis startles, “Is that the time? It’s late! Well, I'm off.”

“Wait!” Alerick exclaims not wanting this to end, “Could we meet again sometime? It’s just I don't know anyone else here who wants to discuss aether or well anything of any real import.”

Louis hesitates, his eyes searching Alerick’s.

“Please?” Alerick knows there’s a note of desperation in his voice but can’t be bothered to care.

“Alright, come by the kitchen at the same time…,” Louis thinks for a minute, “Tuesday.”

“Thank you!” Alerick grabs Louis’ hand and shakes it.

Louis lets out a startled laugh. “Go to bed,” he says, making a shooing hand motion.

“Good night,” Alerick says grinning from ear to ear and doesn’t stop all the way back to his room.

Lying in his bed Alerick replays every moment of their meeting, the feeling of Louis’ much smaller and delicate hand engulfed by his own. The skin soft as silk, the warmth of it, his neat, elegant way of eating, his small frown as he’d argued, the glow of his eyes, the sound of his laugh, genuine and clear.

 Louis is almost constantly on his mind the next day. He’s the handsomest lad Alerick’s ever seen and so learned! Who he is and why or how he’s in the palace these questions run through his mind briefly. Guiltily he feels maybe  he should report his meeting Louis to the Captain, but he reminds himself Heidi clearly knew him.

The day seems to drag on. Will Tuesday ever arrive? Three whole days to live through. He manages to keep his good humor even when the Prince walks by and smacks him on the bottom with his riding crop. Or maybe he’s just becoming resigned to it.

They start meeting, but not every night. Alerick has his duties and Louis doesn't give any excuses just says he can't or sometimes doesn't show up at all. The first time that happened Alerick panicked a bit worried that he said something to scare Louis off.

Louis is intelligent and serious. His voice is cultured, but not the affected drawl used by most of the court. He doesn’t giggle or smirk. He isn’t anything like the other Xenali. There's no flirtation between them. No teasing, no sexual comments or innuendo although Alerick wouldn't mind in this case.

Louis always dresses modestly and plainly, dark breeches loose linen shirt buttoned up to his neck and wrists, a simple waistcoat. His boots are the same as any commoner would wear with a low heel. He wears no jewelry. He doesn't have to, his eyes are sapphires, his skin pearl. Alerick blinks out of his reverie face reddening at his poetic thoughts.

Louis won't say much about himself and he discourages questions, but he has revealed he is a scholar and keeps to himself. He enjoys solitude and Alerick is grateful he includes him.

“You're nothing like the others,” Alerick says one night.

“I know and I don't wish to be. Their lives are so...pathetic.”

“But why aren't you...you know like them?”

“I said no questions,” Louis says sharply, “or we will have to stop meeting.”

“Sorry, I won’t ask again,” Alerick promises. He can’t have this taken away. He’s never felt this way before, hadn’t known it was possible. His family had always teased him for his “backwards” ways. His mother had called him a late bloomer. Well, now he was blooming for Louis.

“Do you want to see the library?” Louis asks.

“Yes,” Alerick says, excitedly, “is it allowed?”

“Of course, it’s this way,” Louis takes him down a corridor Alerick’s never noticed before. At the end is a large wooden door. Louis produces a key and unlocks it.

Alerick gasps in amazement as he follows Louis inside. It’s not as ornate as the other rooms in the palace. The walls are a dark paneled wood, but its cream colored ceiling and trim keep it from being too dark. Throughout it are comfortable looking plump chairs, small tables, lamps and in the center of the room a large desk. Of most importance, it’s filled from floor to ceiling with shelf after shelf of books! Altogether it’s warm and inviting and besides Louis, Alerick’s never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life.

On one wall there is huge painting of a Xenali resplendent in purple robes with an ermine collar and a silver crown seated on a golden throne: the Prince. His hair is jet black and arranged in elaborate braids, rolls and curls. The Prince’s face is even more painted than usual, eyes lined heavily with purple, glossy purple lips. His riding crop is held aloft. A peacock is perched on top of the throne behind him and a leashed panther lies at his feet.

“Wow! That is…” Alerick pauses, speechless.

“Ridiculously tacky?” Louis offers with a grin.

“No, I mean I shouldn't speak ill of the Prince…”

“But?” Louis asks, archly.

“Yes, it is extremely tacky,” Alerick shakes his head in disbelief, “There is a lot going on in this painting, not that I’m an art expert, but my goodness.”

Louis laughs and says, “It’s absolutely terrible. A real eye sore in an otherwise lovely place.”

“Does he really own a panther?” Alerick asks in astonishment, “I've never seen it.”

Louis snorts. “No. Artistic license I suppose. The need for a small man to appear more powerful.He was quite young when this was commissioned, though. He may well regret it now.”

Louis stands next to Alerick regarding the painting critically, “I especially like the little ermine robe the panther is wearing. It would be better if it also had a crown, but then it might be considered an usurper.”

“All that's missing is its own riding crop,” Alerick says.

Louis breaks into peals of laughter.

Alerick grins pleased to have made him laugh. Then he peers at the painting. “But how do his eyelashes get so long? I can never figure it out.”

“They're false. You can get them any length you like. Different colors or bejeweled and they are applied with a special glue.”

“Glue?” He asks skeptically not sure if Louis is teasing him.

“Yes, to the lash line here,” Louis gestures to his own eyes.

“And the hair?”

“Wigs. He must own dozens of them,” Louis says, speculatively.

Alerick whistles, “Expensive, but maybe he saves money on his clothes? He wears so little after all.”

“Oh, and are you looking?” Louis asks with wide eyes.

“No, I just...” Alerick stammers not wanting Louis think he’s interested in the Prince or any other person for that matter.

Louis smiles then says fondly, “I am teasing you. Enough about the Prince. Do you want to see my favorite books?”

“Of course,” Alerick answers eagerly.

“This is a good one, I've read it many times. ‘The Starteller’, it's there,” Louis points to the top shelf where Alerick can see every item is neatly labelled and carefully shelved.

“I own this one!” Alerick tells him excitedly.

“Do you? It’s fascinating, isn’t it?”

“Um, well, I sort of own it. I mean I will soon when I finish paying for it,” he trails off sheepishly. “And the Encyclopedie! I’ve only seen it before at Ludden’s. Oh, Louis you’re so lucky.”

“Well then, I will share my luck with you, borrow whatever you please,” Louis says generously.

Alerick hesitates.

“Would you like a recommendation?”

“Yes, please.”

“Alright, how about ‘Lady Egrette’s Cosmography?’ An excellent read, she’s a remarkable woman. It’s over here. Hold the ladder for me, it sometimes wobbles.”

Louis climbs up the ladder until he reaches the shelf holding the book. Alerick’s enjoying the view and is so distracted by staring at Louis’ bottom that when Louis shifts his weight Alerick fumbles a bit. Louis lets out an “Oh!” of surprise as he falls. Alerick catches him he throws one arm around Alerick's shoulder the book clutched to his chest with the other.

“Sorry,” Alerick says gazing into the bluest eyes he's ever seen.

“It's alright,” Louis, says, breathlessly.

Alerick’s gathering the courage to ask, ‘Can I kiss you?’ when Louis says, “Put me down,” he pushes at Alerick’s shoulder.

“Oh, of course, sorry,” Alerick answers embarrassed setting him down gently.

Once Louis has regained his feet he hands over the book. “Take this and read it and then report back to me what you thought of it.”

“I will,” he promises, solemnly.

“Make sure the others don't touch it,” Louis orders with a stern look. Despite his size he can be fierce.

Alerick stares at him helplessly, ‘I think I’m in love with you, you little beauty’. For a moment he’s afraid he spoke aloud.

“Alright off to bed with you,” he commands and Alerick hurries to do as he’s told. He turns back to see Louis has disappeared, seemingly into thin air. Where does he go? Where does he sleep? As tonight sometimes Louis speaks to him like he’s a kid and not for the first time Alerick wonders: just how old is Louis?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve done my best with the science in this but I am far from an expert, so apologies if got it completely wrong. If I did feel free to let me know! Some of Louis’ dialogue is taken from Sir Isaac Newton’s Letters to Bentley, 1692/3.


	6. Only A Bird In A Gilded Cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Prince entertains a special guest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning again for the dub con nature of sex slave fic which to some may be closer to non con in this chapter. See notes at end for more details.

Alerick’s just gone off duty when he decides to drop by the kitchen to say hello to Heidi. He spots a new face, a small girl with blond curls, a scruffy looking dog sits next to her.

“Who is this little lady?” He asks Heidi as he pets the dog who is wagging his tail furiously.

“This is Agnes and her pup, Wolf,” Heidi says proudly, “She’s my sister’s girl.”

“Hello, Agnes.” He squats down so he’s at eye level with her.

Agnes smiles at him shyly, “Hello, sir.”

“How old are you, lass?”

Agnes hesitates, glancing at Heidi before replying, “Five, sir.”

“Here’s a cookie for you and Wolf,” Heidi says as she hands over the treats, “Take Wolf outside to play, love. Mind you stay close by.” Agnes grins and with a thank you she and her dog run off.

“Is she visiting?” Alerick asks, curiously.

“No, she’ll be living here from now on. Her ma died, childbed fever, neither she nor the babe lived and I’m her only family. Her da,” Heidi lowers her voice and says darkly, “well the less said about him the better.”

“I see,” Alerick says, sad for the sweet little girl.

“How about some pie, love?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

The Xenali have been practicing a dance they will be performing for the Tyvian ambassador, the Duke of Ascay. It’s like no dance Alerick’s ever seen before and he’s sure his face is flame red. Just when he thinks they cannot shock him any further the stakes are raised.

The music has a deep sensual beat; the cousins thrust their hips and shake their bottoms all while touching themselves and each other inappropriately.

The Prince doesn’t seem happy with their performance and yells “Again!” over and over. “Come my lambs, again!”

His smile is beginning to frazzle, he seems on the verge of losing his fabled sangfroid and Alerick is curious to see it.

“Watch carefully,” he says as he and Lord Remy perform the entire dance flawlessly. The Prince’s hips piston his expression is come hither, he meets Alerick’s eyes and begins dancing toward him. Alerick’s stomach plummets. He’s been ignored for days now, he should have known it was too good to last.

The Prince smiles up at him his eyes smoldering and Alerick is having difficulty breathing. He places one hand on Alerick’s halberd as he shimmies up and down their bodies never fully touching: a tease as always.

His jet black ponytail whips back and forth flicking Alerick’s doublet where even through the cloth it grazes him with fire.

The cousins seem impressed and as Alerick glances at Davin the man seems on the verge of collapse.

The Prince throws back his head and laughs, loud and genuine. It’s a pleasant sound and Alerick watches him in bemusement. The Prince moves away with a final wink without for once, smacking Alerick with his crop.

The cousins perform the next one to the Prince’s liking and he smiles hugely clapping his hands.

“Excellent! I knew you could do it, my loves!”

The Duke of Ascay, the younger brother of the current Tyvian King, has arrived. The entire court, Archduke Maximillian, the Archduchess and the Council: Lady Mirriem and Lady Karina, Lords Yves, Jaimes and Sir Pellier are present, as well, to receive such an honored guest.

The Archduke and Archduchess greet the Duke first. The Archduchess simpers as the Duke dutifully kisses her hand. He then is introduced to the Council. The Duke is obviously distracted and keeps glancing toward where the Prince is waiting patiently.

Alerick sees the disapproving gaze of Sir Pellier. According to Davin, Sir Pellier hates the Xenali, the Prince in particular. He’d claimed to be away on business during the Prince’s birthday party. “That’s bullshit, it was a deliberate slight on his part. Not that the Prince would care, except he’s a senior council member and a bad enemy to have.” Davin had explained.

The Prince's hair is a pale blond today, piled on top of his head seemingly only held up by two bejeweled sticks. Soft looking tendrils curl around his face. His dress is red silk and opened from throat to waist. He wears no stockings, only sandals that wrap around his legs, the heel slightly lower than usual. His lips are as red as strawberries; a bejeweled crop hangs from one delicate wrist.

The Duke now stands in front of the Prince. He’s not a small man, almost as tall as Alerick and although of an age with the King, still thick with muscle. The Prince is completely dwarfed by him. Alerick thinks that’s how he and the Prince must appear when side by side. There’s something unpleasant about the man and he doesn't like the comparison.

“Your grace,” the Duke steps forward to grasp the hand extended to him, pressing a kiss to it. “Your beauty has not been exaggerated I see.”

Alerick notes the Archduchess’ sour face and the look she exchanges with Sir Pellier.

The Prince smiles, “You, sir, are a charmer and quite the handsome one at that. He slips one small hand into the crook of the Duke’s arm, “Now, shall I give you the tour?”

“Please,” the Duke agrees happily as the Prince leads him away.

That night at the feast in his honor the Duke is seated next to the Prince and spends most of the evening gazing at him hungrily.

Alerick has realized that much of the Prince’s diplomatic skill lies in his ability to seduce. The honey pot draws them in and even Alerick can admit he has an undeniable allure. To have all that attention focused on a person is heady.

“You’ve been very cruel to me. I am most put out with you, sir!” the Prince admonishes the Duke, then more gently, “I was worried about you.”

“You were?” the Duke asks, eagerly.

“Yes, I hadn’t heard from you in quite a while. You haven’t been answering my letters.”

“There was some trouble,” the Duke says as he grimaces.

“Nothing too terrible I hope,” the Prince furrows his brow in concern.

“No, just… I shouldn’t speak of it, your grace,” the Duke shakes his head apologetically, “It’s a matter of some delicacy.”

“I quite understand, say no more,” the Prince places one small hand  over the Duke’s in sympathy. “Now, I have a treat for you.”

The Prince moves to the front of the room. His dress is a black sparkly material, the clasp of it a silver chain collar that encircles his throat. When the Prince turns around Alerick can see another chain trailing down his bare back, tracing his elegant spine. The very short skirt of his dress, flares out a bit giving the room a glimpse of his bottom as he walks to the front of the hall.

The musicians begin to play and the Prince sings one of Tyvia’s most popular folk songs: The Maid and the Rose. The Prince’s voice is pure and clear and utterly beautiful. Alerick could listen to him sing for hours on end and with free reign to do nothing but stare at the Prince he takes him all in. The Prince’s still not to Alerick’s taste, but he is quite lovely and his voice has made him even more attractive. He finishes singing, his lashes fanned demurely as the room erupts into thunderous applause.

Alerick finds he’s clapping so hard his hands hurt. The Prince makes a mocking curtsey, but with a pleased little grin. He catches the Prince’s eye, who raises one eyebrow as he smiles archly. Alerick finds he can’t look away.

“Fantastic, your grace! Absolutely perfect!” the Duke says, enraptured.

The Prince takes his seat as the music changes and Alerick begins to blush knowing the dance is next. It seems even more scandalous than when practiced and the Duke along with the rest of the audience whistle and cheer. The Archduchess and Sir Pellier whisper disapprovingly throughout.

The Duke has been a guest of the Prince’s for over a week before they have a private supper in the Prince’s dining room. Alerick and Davin relieve Guy and Belliers at 10 o’clock just as the two have finished eating.

“Lads, take my lovely gift from the Duke with you,” the Prince orders.

“Yes, your grace,” Guy and Belliers bow as they do as he bids.

The gift is a silver cage with several doves inside. Alerick can’t help but feel it’s a strange thing to give the Prince, yet he seems pleased with it.

“I do have another gift for you, your grace,” the Duke hands a thick envelope to the Prince who is smiling like the cat who got the cream.

“There, we are already much better friends, aren’t we?” the Prince practically purrs.

“We are,” the Duke grabs the Prince’s face and kisses him hard, “Now on to what I was promised.”

“Here my love? Wouldn’t you rather adjourn to my bed chamber?” the Prince says, seductively.

“Later.” The Duke starts pawing at the Prince. Alerick glances at Davin who looks grim but shakes his head.

“A little patience, sir,” the Prince says, teasingly.

“I’ve been patient. More than patient. Are you reneging?” Alerick bristles at the touch of anger in the Duke’s tone.

“Of course not I… oh,” The Prince moans, “you’re very masterful, sir,” as the Duke picks him up setting him none too gently on the table. He yanks at the Prince’s skirt tearing the delicate silk in his haste.

“You are eager, aren’t you? Have a care,” the Prince says, lightly admonishing, “You’re spoiling my frock.”

“You can buy another with what I’ve given you.”

“Then allow me,” the Prince unbuttons the Duke’s trousers. Alerick looks away, but not quickly enough and he sees the Duke’s member is huge and an angry red. The Prince has had him a state for days after all. Alerick cannot fully see the Prince as he is covered by the Duke who is fumbling between his legs.

“Ah, good,” the Duke says approvingly, “you’re ready for me.”

“Well, I anticipated that you were a spontaneous and passionate lover. I wanted there to be no more waiting between us.”

“Yes, although sometimes too much preparation is undesirable. I want you to feel it long after I’m gone.”

The Duke settles in between the Prince’s legs pulling him until his bottom is at the end of the table and enters him without preamble.

 The Duke begins thrusting, his breathing harsh, “Oh,” the Prince says breathily moaning, “yes.”

"You like that, don’t you? You like it rough,” the Duke says smugly. He has the Prince in his grip like a rag doll; all Alerick can see of him are his hands clutching the Duke’s back and his legs spread wide.

“Yes,” the Prince shows every evidence of enjoying himself. His soft cries and breathy moans mix with the Duke’s harsh groans.

“So small and delicate, but built to take it hard aren’t you? Tell me you like it.” The Duke grunts making pig like noises that disgust Alerick.

“I… oh, good, yes!”

Alerick is torn between not wanting to see and doing his duty. He’s angry that he worried for the Prince, that he thought he might not want the Duke’s attentions, but he can see how wrong he was.

The Duke has stamina, especially for a man his age and Alerick doesn’t know how long they’ve been at it. It feels like forever and it’s difficult to listen to. Alerick didn’t know sex could last so long. Finally, the Duke with one last sharp jab comes with a shout.

The Duke’s face shines with sweat. He grins and says, “You’re as good of a fuck as I’d heard.”

The Prince for once is anything other than immaculate: his hair has fallen out of the clips, his dress is in shreds, his lipstick smudged.

 He laughs throatily, “You’re not so bad yourself. Now, why don’t we adjourn to my chambers, have some wine sent up and continue the festivities?”

The Prince yelps as the Duke picks him up, “Oh, you’re so strong!"

Alerick and Davin follow, but thankfully are left outside the door.

“Fucking bastard,” Davin says, angrily.

Alerick shrugs, “The Prince seems enthusiastic.”

“Lad, you can be pretty thick for all your book learning. He doesn’t want that geezer any more than you do. Bastard’s going to hurt him some, too. More than he already has.”

“Hurt him!” Alerick says, heatedly, “Then we need to stop…”

“Back to your post. This kind of thing we can’t help, lad.”

“But…” Alerick protests.

“No.”

The Duke leaves the next morning and the Prince looks no different than he does any other day, nor does he act it. He’s all smiles and teasing remarks as he sees the Duke off with one last passionate kiss. The Prince and his cousins wave until the carriage is too far away to be seen.

As the Prince turns around his mouth is pinched tight and Lord Remy takes his hand which he grips tightly, white knuckled. Lord Berry hands him a glass of wine. The Prince doesn’t drink it; he swishes it around his mouth then spits it out onto the lawn. Wiping his mouth the Prince hands the glass back to Lord Berry, “Thank you, my dear, that really hit the spot. Well, cousins, it's time for our promenade, is it not?”

For the first time Alerick feels sorry for the Prince; he sees his life is not so glamorous after all. He’s grateful Louis isn’t a harem Xenali.

Alerick puts the Prince from his mind as he goes off duty, excited to be seeing Louis that night for the first time in days.

They’ve been sitting together in the library reading companionably when Louis reaches for a book on one of the higher shelves and winces.

“What's wrong?” Alerick asks, instantly alert.

“Nothing,” Louis insists, but his smile is a bit weak.

“You've been injured,” Alerick says in alarm.

“No. Yes,” he amends as Alerick begins to protest, “I did something very silly last night. I was alone in the library and I wanted a book on one of the top shelves. It’s embarrassing. I slipped and fell. You know how this stupid ladder is.”

“You shouldn't have been up there without me! Promise you won't ever do anything that dangerous again.”

“I promise,” he says solemnly, but for some reason Alerick doesn't quite believe him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is consent, basically a trade of sex for something the Prince wants: a deal he’s clearly made with the Duke. However, by the end of the chapter it’s shown the Prince didn’t want or enjoy the sex. The sex is rough, and the Prince is hurt- no graphic details are given. There's one sex scene on screen, most is off screen. I'd rate this chapter as Mature rather than Explicit which we'll get to in future chapters.


	7. You're Such A Heavenly View

Alerick had been too embarrassed to notice before his dream, but now he can see the Prince’s figure isn't boyish at all and neither is Lord Remy's. Their muscles are lean and he wonders how with their dissolute lives they achieve it.

“Eyes forward, boy,” Lord Remy orders and Alerick is surprised to be caught out.

“What is it, my love?” The Prince asks, concerned.

“Alerick has been staring at my ass again,” Lord Remy informs him and Alerick wishes he could sink through the floor.

“Oh, dear, has he?” The Prince shakes his head in exasperation his long red pony tail swishes back and forth; his silver earrings tinkle like tiny wind chimes. “He's quite the handful, isn't he?”

Lord Remy hold up his hands, “I'd say more than.”

“Yes, but you must admit your hands are rather small.” The Prince's hair falls against his face as he kisses one.

“You have me there, my love,” Lord Remy smiles affectionately at him. “And anyway, I doubt he could measure up to you, cousin.”

The Prince smiles at him smugly then taps Alerick on the thigh with his crop as he slowly circles him, the top of his head barely reaching Alerick's shoulder.

“I believe this lad's having his Spring Awakening,” The Prince announces.

“Which is?” Lord Remy tilts his head curiously.

“It's the time when all young things are ready to go forth and pollinate.”

“Well he won't be pollinating me anytime soon, cousin,” Lord Remy sneers.

“That's unfortunate isn't it, Alerick?” The Prince pauses, “Observe his face cousin. You have devastated him.”

Devastation is the furthest from Alerick’s mind.

“My cousin doesn't wish to lose his girlish figure, you must understand,” the Prince solemnly informs Alerick, who is mortified by the admission.

“Girlish! Does a girl have this?” and before Alerick horrified gaze Lord Remy makes to pull down his ruffled bloomers.

“Mind your manners, cousin!” The Prince glances around in mock worry. “Have a care for your reputation!”

“I do apologize for… um staring at you,” Alerick manages.

“He admits it!” Lord Remy says, triumphantly.

“Cousin, I don't mind telling you I am quite envious,” the Prince says, confidingly, “He has never once to my knowledge so much as glanced at my…”

“Your blossom?”

“Precisely.”

“I disagree, your grace,” Lord Kitty speaks up giving Alerick a sly look. Sometimes Alerick feels Lord Kitty works too hard to emulate Lord Remy.

“Do you, Kit?” The Prince turns politely towards his cousin, “Pray tell.”

In a carrying whisper Lord Kitty says, “Why just last evening I observed Alerick taking a gander at your assets while you bent over the buffet.”

“Well, I never!” the Prince puts his hand over his heart as if he’s overwhelmed, his mouth open in faux shock, “I am stunned by this revelation!”

“Begging, your pardon, your grace if you’d excuse me,” Alerick desperately tries to make his escape.

“I will not, my chickadee, it seems you’ve been caught out. What do you have to say for yourself?” The Prince’s tone is scolding, his eyes are laughing at him.

“I don’t know,” is all Alerick can think to say.

“You’re up to something lately, there’s something…different about you,” the Prince muses, “What could it be?”

“Nothing, your grace,” Alerick rushes to assure him, afraid somehow the Prince will find out about him and Louis and stop them from meeting. He doesn’t know if that’s a possibility, but he can’t take the chance.

“Hmm, well we’ll winkle it out of you eventually,” the Prince regards him thoughtfully, eyes narrowed, “Dismissed, soldier.”

“Thank you, your grace.” He flees.

That night Alerick and Louis are sitting on a window seat overlooking the gardens discussing ‘Lady Egrette’s Cosmography.’ Alerick drinks in the sight of him, it never lessens, the impact of Louis’ appearance. Alerick is always for a moment breathless at the sight of him. His creamy skin, the soft flush of his cheeks and those amazing eyes huge in Louis small face. He is especially intrigued by Louis’ ears.

“Could I… would you mind if I…” Alerick trails off shyly.

“What?” Louis regards him questioningly.

“Could I touch your…?” Alerick gestures towards one.

“Touch my what?” Louis asks, sharply.

“No, just your ears, could I… Sorry, never mind, that was inappropriate of me…” Alerick finishes miserably, afraid he’s given grave offense.

“You want to touch my ears?” Louis says, incredulously then huffs out a laugh, “Alright.”

“Really?” Alerick sits up in excitement.

“Yes, go ahead,” Louis tilts his head accommodatingly.

Alerick gently traces the curve of one, lingering on the delicate point. Taken aback he sees tiny marks. Louis has pierced ears. And not just one, they dot almost the entirety of it. Just like the Xenali at court whose ears like the rest of them are covered in jewels

Something must show on his face because Louis pulls back, “What?” he says, sharply.

“Nothing,” Alerick withdraws his hand, “they’re just cute.”

Louis seems unconvinced but allows Alerick to change the conversation. “I got a letter today from my mother.”

“Tell me about your family, I know you're from the south.”

“How do you know that?” Alerick asks in surprise.

“At court there are no secrets.” Louis’ lips turn up in a small smile, “Well, not many.”

“I come from a big family. I have nine brothers and three sisters and most of my siblings are married. My grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins...  everyone lives nearby.”

“And you are the youngest,” Louis states.

“How did you know?” Alerick is again surprised.

Louis smirks at him, “I can spot a pampered baby from a mile away.”

“Take it back!” Alerick protests, “I am not a pampered baby!”

“If you say so,” Louis says, his eyes still teasing, “You miss your family.”

“Very much,” Alerick agrees, thinking if only they could meet you. If only you knew my letters home are full of you.

“Why did you come to the capitol?” Louis asks, “I mean why take a job here?”

“It was a good opportunity. The pay is better than at home and I have an important job.”

“Guarding our spoiled prince from what?” Louis mocks, “A hangnail?”

“From whatever I must. I would die to protect the Prince gladly if need be,” Alerick says, fiercely.

“I can see that,” Louis places his hand on top of Alerick’s his face serious. “You're to be commended then.”

“And what about your family?” Alerick dares to ask him.

“I don't remember my family,” Louis takes back his hand, his expression is shuttered.

“I'm sorry,” Alerick says, softly.

“It's alright,” Louis gives him a tight smile, “I have my cousins.”

“The other Xenali,” Alerick says slowly, not to spook Louis who is sharing more about himself than he ever has before.

“Some of them are. Not all. We just call each other cousin because we are alone,” Louis shrugs.

“You’re never alone, not anymore,” Alerick now boldly puts his hand on Louis’, “I promise.”

“You’re sweet,” Louis smiles at him fondly.

A new Xenali, Lord Taffy, has entered the harem. He’s young and excited by court life. His curls are light brown, his signature color, pale blue. He flounces around in his new satin skirts and heels obviously very pleased with himself.

The Prince has taken a shine to him and as his new favorite they spend a great deal of time behind closed doors becoming better acquainted.

They currently are meeting in the Prince’s office.

“Ugh, Sir Pellier’s here lad, earlier than expected, Davin says, sotto voice, “Go tell the Prince.”

Alerick knocks softly, then enters the room before given leave and is promptly sorry he did so.

The Prince is seated in one of the velvet chairs eyes downward where Lord Taffy kneels between his legs. Lord Taffy’s head blocks Alerick’s view but it’s clear what he’s doing to the Prince. Lord Taffy startles at Alerick’s intrusion and sits back on his heels his lips a rosy, shiny red.

The Prince pushes him back down, “Shh, it’s alright my love, do continue, you’re doing so well.”

“Yes, Alerick?” He asks amused gently stroking Lord Taffy’s head as he works. Alerick tears his eyes away in fascinated horror, but he has lost the power of speech.

“Am I right in thinking Sir Pellier is here?”

“Yes,” Alerick croaks out, mouth dry, “your grace.”

“Tell him I’ll join him, I’d say shortly, but I think mine and Lord Taffy’s business may take some time. The Prince winks, “I’ll be with him as soon as I can.”

“Yes, your grace,” Alerick bows then flees.

Alerick is shocked that the Prince could talk to him so calmly when someone was doing that to him. Not that he’s knowledgeable about such things.

When he exits he notices Sir Pellier is nowhere to be seen.

“Lad, your face!” Davin laughs then sobers, “Wait, was he fucking Lord Taffy? He groans, “I never should have sent you. Describe it to me.”

“The Prince was…”

“Was what, lad?” Davin barks, “I’m on the edge of my seat here.”

“Lord Taffy was servicing him,” Alerick says, primly.

Davin wrinkles his forehead, puzzled. “You mean he was sucking his cock?”

Alerick nods, “Yes and I won’t describe it to you.”

“Alas,” Davin sighs, “Well at least I’ve got one thing going for me, lad, I’ve got a good imagination.”

After a fortnight the Prince has already tired of Lord Taffy who puts a brave face on it.

“Poor lad,” Davin sympathizes, “I think I’ll offer to comfort him.”

At their next rendezvous Louis has a canvas bag slung over one shoulder, he says, “I have a surprise for you.”

“What is it?”

“Follow me out into the garden.”

Alerick does. It’s a beautiful night, clear skies, not too warm, the air lightly scented with jasmine.

They pass a statue: the Prince depicted as the god of love, naked except for a fig leaf, his hair loose and unadorned. Before Alerick can take a better look Louis pulls a scarf from his bag and throws it over the statue’s head covering the face.

“I can’t take him staring at me. It’s unnerving.”

“Where is the panther I wonder?” Alerick jokes and Louis grins at him.

“Lord Remy is…” Alerick begins, then blushes.

“Lord Remy is what?” Louis asks, curiously.

“Um, he’s always implying that the Prince has a large... er,” Alerick makes an awkward hand gesture, realizes it could be construed as obscene and quickly stops.

“Member?” Louis bites his lip clearly trying not to laugh.

“Yes,” Alerick is flustered and excited to be having a sexual conversation with Louis.

Louis studies the statue. “Well, if it fits underneath that fig leaf, how big can it be?”

That makes Alerick laugh.

“Come on, just a bit further,” they continue walking, “It’s over here,” Louis announces, “what do you think?”

Alerick stops and stares in wonder. “Oh, Louis it’s…a telescope. An honest to goodness real telescope. It’s beautiful! How did you afford it?”

Louis just shakes his head as if Alerick’s said something funny.

“Would you like to take a look? I’ve brought a star chart,” he pulls it out of his bag.

“Of course,” Alerick tells him eagerly.

Louis shows him how to use it, he’s enraptured by how clear and bright the stars are.

They observe the Queen, a constellation comprised of eleven stars. Close by are the King and the Prince. 

"Did you know in the ancient world if you could see the “diamond” in the Queen’s Crown with the naked eye, you would have been a good candidate for a hunter or soldier?”

“I did not! How interesting,” Louis exclaims, “I trust you can see it? If not you may have to resign your post.”

“I can, I have excellent eyesight,” Alerick reassures him and they exchange a smile.

“I was born under the Prince,” Alerick tells him, “what about you?”

Louis opens his mouth as if to answer, pauses, then shakes his head, “I don’t know. I’m not exactly sure when my birthday is.”

Alerick feels terrible for him, “Oh, I’m s…”

“It’s no matter, now hold this,” he hands Alerick the chart.

Looking down on Louis’ curly head as he peers into the scope Alerick wishes he could be bold enough to kiss him. Just a small kiss on the top of his curls. It may be unwelcome, though and he never wants to offend Louis. Alerick’s so distracted these days; his thoughts full of kissing Louis, making love to him on a blanket under the stars.

Alerick surreptitiously takes sniff of Louis. He smells clean like the plain soap his mother and sisters make of bergamot and coriander. It’s gentle and good for washing your face at the end of the day. Popular with the capital folk who visited Chermine’s Springs who employ it to remove their cosmetics. 

Thinking of home reminds him of something and he says, “There’s an ancient stone ring nearby Chermine, it’s an excellent place to stargaze. They have a… magical feeling, I wish I could explain it.”

“The Giant’s Dance,” Louis replies, his eyes full of wonder, “I’ve always wanted to see it!”

“If I could get leave we could go together. Stay with my family,” Alerick’s heart fills with joy at the thought of introducing Louis to his family as a friend or perhaps more.

Louis face clouds over. He begins packing up.

“Are you alright?” Alerick fears he’s said something to offend him.

“Of course,” Louis says, “It’s getting late is all and I’m tired.”

“Alright,” Alerick agrees uncertainly.


	8. Jeepers Creepers, Where'd Ya Get Those Peepers?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alerick learns something new about Louis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, SPAG, my mortal enemy. Feel free to point out what I missed!

“Lord Daphney!” A young man, thin and handsome, his pale hair scraped back in a queue rushes forward. He practically falls over himself to bow to the Prince then to the other Xenali. The Prince shakes his head in amusement and the cousins giggle.

“Good morning, Lord Tunstall,” Lord Daffy replies as he twirls his parasol. His expression is polite, but underneath even Alerick can tell something simmers.

Lord Tunstall beams at him, “Good morning, your lordship, I trust you slept well?” This causes an eruption of more giggles from the cousins. Even Lord Remy appears amused.

“I did, sir, thank you for your concern,” Lord Daffy informs him coolly, twirling his yellow parasol faster than before.

“I just thought you might like to know that I was the victor, as it were,” Lord Tunstall informs him proudly.

Lord Daffy’s eyes narrow, “The victor of what exactly, sir?”

Lord Tunstall is beginning to look a bit at sea. “Well of the duel with Armaud. You know, um, you do know, don’t you?”

“And why should I care about that?” Lord Daffy asks, huffily.

“Why, because I protected your honor,” Lord Tunstall replies uncertainly, seeming to finally notice the coolness of Lord Daffy’s tone and the amusement of the other Xenali.

“My honor! What you did, sir, was endanger your person. Lord Armaud is a skilled fencer. You could have been killed!” Lord Daffy says, heatedly.

“Come along, my lambs,” the Prince gestures to the cousins and they follow him, several looking back over their shoulders to where Lord Daffy is berating Lord Tunstall.

“Ah, young love,” Lord Remy remarks mockingly, “He should know better by now, but alas Daffy’s never been known for his brains.”

“Remy, don’t be so cynical,” the Prince chides watching the couple, his smile indulgent.

“Never cynical, only a realist, my love as you should well understand.”

“What was the duel about?” Alerick asks Davin when he’s able.

Davin snorts, “Dumbest fucking thing I ever heard of. Lord Armaud’s dog got wet swimming in the bay and shook water on Lord Daffy and Lord Kitty. Lord Kitty made a fuss, little shit that he is and Lord Tunstall took offense even though Lord Daffy had already accepted Armaud’s apology.”

“Are there many duels here?”

“Ah yes, lad. These twits would do anything to garner a Xenali’s attention. Lady Pamela and Lady Genève fought one once over which one of them Lord Berry had smiled at first that day.”

Alerick has noted many of the Xenali have their particular admirers and he thinks on the stupidity of the duels as he witnesses the following conversation.

“Sir, would you care to take the air with me?” Lady Wren smiles coquettishly up at Lord Cherry. “My carriage awaits.”

Lady Wren is a tiny woman who very much resembles her namesake. Alerick thinks she would still be shorter than his lordship if he were in his stocking feet.

“Excuse me, Madame, but Lord Cherise has an engagement with me. We’re going the park in my carriage.” Lady Sand informs her rival placing a possessive hand on one of Lord Cherry’s arms while Lady Wren grips the other. For a moment Alerick is afraid they will play tug a war with his lordship.

Lord Cherry only smiles at one then the other fondly. “Ladies, come, can we not all enjoy each other’s company? It is surely too pretty a day to quarrel?”

Even Lord Taffy has attracted a beau of his own: Lord Fusten, a middle aged, still handsome baron.

“Disgustingly, rich,” Davin says enviously, as they watch Lord Taffy accept the Count’s gift (a blue satin headpiece covered in jewels) with a squeal of delight.

The mystery of Louis’ place at court nags at Alerick. He’s tried to put it from his mind, but finds he cannot. He knows better than to ask Louis himself, but there is someone else...

He’s finished helping Master Hughes hang up a new shelf in his study when he casually asks, “Are all Xenali like the ones at court?”

“Yes,” Master Hughes nods as he places an ugly figurine on the shelf, “All are beautiful and accomplished.”

He persists as this is not the answer he was seeking. “Aren't there some who are free to do and dress as they please?”

Master Hughes shakes his head in bemusement. “What a question lad. Of course not.”

Alerick's  heart is beating much quicker, yet he manages to keep his expression calm as he regards Master Hughes inquiringly.

“There are no free Xenali. They are taken at a very young age and each one costs as much as you or I will ever make our lifetime ten times over. They are trained for years to ...please,” Master Hughes says with a leer that turns Alerick’s stomach.

“That young?” Alerick asks, horrified.

“Don’t be daft boy,” Master Hughes growls at him, “No, they simply learn to play instruments, sing, make conversation and so forth, the other is much later.”

“None are free?” Alerick confirms.

“No, lad, that isn't possible. They are rare and expensive and every one of them has a master.”

 At their last meeting, Louis had proposed a project and Alerick had enthusiastically agreed. The two of them are to write a book that will explain the heavens in easy to understand terms.

“We can write it as a conversation between an astronomer and a noblewoman. Educational, of course, but also amusing. Our readers will be quite learned before they realize it, having been so pleasantly diverted!”

Tonight they’re outlining the chapters and Alerick’s having trouble concentrating. Louis keeps giving him strange looks.

“Are you feeling alright? You seem distracted,” Louis finally asks. He is lovely and Alerick may be about to lose him, but he must confess.

His expression must reveal his fears because Louis is instantly alert, “What's wrong?”

“I learned today that no…Xenali are free.”

Louis stills for a moment, his lips tighten. “That is true,” he finally says.

“So you,” Alerick says, gently, “you aren't a scholar?”

“No, I am!” Louis says, fiercely his eyes flashing, then quietly, “I'm just also a...”

“You are a…”

“I am a slave,” Louis says harshly, “I have a master. Is that what you want to hear?”

“I… no,” Alerick assures him.

“So tell me, which is it to be? You have no further inclination to be friends with a harem slut or you'll try harder to fuck me?” Louis asks, belligerently, hands on his hips.

“No, of course not!” Alerick replies, shocked at hearing Louis use such language, “I'm not trying to... you.”

“Really?” Louis’ voice drips with sarcasm and Alerick flushes a bit. He hadn’t realized Louis had noticed his affection.

“I don't, not that…” he stops then answers honestly, “Not just that. I genuinely care about you. I thought you knew that.” Alerick hopes his sincerity will calm him down. Louis can be quite passionate at times.

Louis shrugs, but looks mollified.

“You live here in the palace,” Alerick says, uncertainly.

“Of course I do,” Louis rolls his eyes and huffs in annoyance.

“I've never seen you,” it’s partly a question.

“Are you sure?” Louis asks, amused. Alerick is happy to note he’s not as hostile now.

“Have I?” Alerick regards him seriously.

“You have looked at me many times, but never seen me,” Louis says, bitterly, his eyes sparking again. “I see the way you look at us, at me when I’m in paint. Your face shows your contempt though you hide it better now, than you did at first.”

“I don’t…” Alerick sighs heavily, it’s true he has been unkind in his thoughts towards the Xenali. “You’re right, I am… I can be…” he trails off overwhelmed as his worldview turns on its head.

“You’re a bit of a prig is what you are,” Louis tells him bluntly, then adds, “But you’re young yet. You can change?” he regards Alerick questioningly.

“I can,” Alerick promises him. “I will. I’m already doing so.”

Louis eyes search his and he seems satisfied with what he sees.

“There are twelve of you. Which one are you?”

“Oh no, you'll have to figure out that mystery for yourself,” Louis answers teasingly and Alerick is happy to see he has lost most of his hostility.

“Let me see your eyes,” Alerick stares into the depths of the bluest blue. Louis smiles at him mischievously.

“Tomorrow will you try to find me?”

Alerick nods unable to look away.

“Good. Remember the eyes are the windows to the soul.”

Alerick thinks of the times he’s seen the Xenali flirting and more with the men and women at court and all this time Louis had been one of them. Up until now Alerick has thought of Louis as somewhat…innocent. No, he allows, that’s not the right word. He knows, even though he doesn’t look it, Louis is older than him and as handsome as he is, he’s surely had lovers. Alerick has shied away from thinking on it too much. Instead, simply hoping Louis may in time express a romantic interest in him. He feels ashamed, but knowing Louis is so much more experienced than he, is intimidating and jealousy provoking.

He’s angry at the Prince who causes Louis and the others to prostitute themselves.That someone owns him. That he’s been forced to do things he hasn’t wanted to do. Alerick wants to find some way to free him from this life, but he knows he can’t. He has the ridiculous idea of finding a way to get enough money to what-buy him? It makes Alerick sick.

He’s ashamed of how judgmental he’s been of the Xenali. He vows to never do so again. They haven’t chosen this life and he suspects that they despise it. Things he’s seen that before he didn’t give much thought to now make him aware of the truth. He feels like a fool, having been so oblivious to their plight. The Prince and the Duke come to mind and he feels rage again, stronger this time at that being Louis’ fate.

But now he must discover Louis’ identity. The following afternoon Alerick has the opportunity to carry out his plan.

He starts with the first Xenali he sees, Lord Daffy who merrily calls out, “How bold you are today sir,” as Alerick steps in close to get a good look at his eyes, a pale brown, almost amber color. “ I approve,” he purrs.

“Sorry, your lordship,” Alerick bows and moves toward Lord Candy.

“Watch out, Candide! This one is on the prowl.”

Lord Candy has jade green eyes, and backing away from his flirtatious smile, Alerick nearly runs into Lord Remy.

"What are you about, lad?" Lord Remy asks annoyed. Alerick stares into his icy blue gaze.

"I was just...” he stammers, “Your eyes are very pretty.”

Lord Remy regards him in surprise then says coyly, "Thank you, Alerick."

“Cousin,” Lord Remy calls out to someone behind him, “You'll never guess.”

Alerick closes his eyes, he's caught the Prince's attention again. The Prince saunters over to them.

“Try me, my dear,” the Prince commands.

His hair is black today piled high on his head in two buns that remind Alerick of the ears on his youngest niece’s toy mouse. His outfit is a skin tight red stocking, his boots a sparkly silver with a stiletto heel.

“Alerick has just complimented me on my… you'll never believe it,” Lord Remy whispers making it sound dirty “... eyes.”

"Oh, cousin what a scandal," the Prince drawls, "And yet what a triumph for you. Bravo, my dear, again for having turned this one's head from his darker, flightier, more feathery pursuits. I vow I never would have suspected."

"He's been peering at ours as well, your grace," Lord Daffy says." It's quite upset me and Candy." His simper says otherwise.

"Alerick, what must I do with you?" The Prince sighs dramatically then slaps him lightly on the arm. "Stop trying to fuck my boys."

Alerick leans down. "I wasn't, your grace,” he manages as he stares the Prince dead in the eyes. They're lovely: deeply, vividly purple and very amused.

“What is this obsession with peepers today, lad?” The Prince asks in puzzlement.

"He's a strange bird that one," Lord Remy advises.

Lords Daffy and Candy break out in peals of laughter.

"I was...I'd like to propose a contest, your grace," Alerick says all the while thinking ‘What in the world am I saying?’

"A contest?” The Prince peers up at him pursing his lips which are a glossy, ruby red. "How intriguing. What kind of contest?"

"Why, which one of you has the prettiest eyes." Alerick answers him, feeling foolish.

The Prince laughs. "I think you had better say me as I am both your Prince and your employer."

"Of course, your grace, but I could see who comes in second."

"Why, not? I'm feeling very dull today. Go ahead my little chickadee.” The Prince claps his hands, “Cousins, come here.”

Alerick feels like an idiot and it isn't easy to be the focus of so many nearly naked flirtatious young men, but he is determined, gazing into one pair of eyes after another, but none of them are even close to Louis'.

"Well, who is our winner?" the Prince asks.

"I cannot say, your grace, they are all so pretty,” Alerick tries not to sound disappointed.

"This one has finally learned to be a diplomat," the Prince announces with a smack of his riding crop to Alerick's thigh. "Come my lambs, it’s time for luncheon."

"Lambs, cousin?" Lord Remy says uncertainly, "Be careful what you say in front of...” with a significant look at Alerick.

"Surely, not even Alerick would stoop so low?" The Prince demands in faux outrage.

Alerick’s blood boils as the cousins giggle. Davin raises an eyebrow. “What was that, lad?” he asks sotto voice.

“I don’t know,” Alerick is both embarrassed and frustrated.

“I do. Bloody genius,” he regards Alerick with respect. “I think I’ll have a contest of my own. It’ll involve more touching than yours lad and…”Alerick tunes him out.

When he sees Louis that night he is smiling broadly. “Well today did not go exactly as you planned I fear.”

“No, it definitely did not,” Alerick says, sulkily, “and I don't think it's particularly funny.”

“I thought it was very clever of you to come up with a contest,” Louis says, apologetically.

“Which one are you?” Alerick tries to stare him down, to see the truth in his eyes.

Louis just smiles. His eyes keep his secrets.

Louis’ smile softens. “I liked you from the moment I saw you,”

“And when was that?” The thought of Louis already knowing him when he had no idea of the introduction of so significant a person into his life is astonishing.

"Why the very first day you arrived. So wide eyed, so innocent and your face! You were scandalized, absolutely horrified by all of us me included,” Louis continues, “I wanted to give you a hug and say everything would be alright- can you imagine? How they would have talked… so silly,” he says, self-deprecatingly.

“I wish you had. I needed it after meeting the Prince,” Alerick tells him fervently. 

“Poor lad,” Louis pats him on the arm, sympathetically. “Don’t take everything he says to heart. He’s always putting on a show and you make it too easy for him. Your face is an open book. That’s not a good thing here.”

“Now, shall we get back to our writing?” Alerick nods in agreement and he soon becomes caught up in their project.

Louis yawns. “Oh, it’s late, I believe it’s time to retire for the night.”

“Just one thing,” Alerick says, “Could you please ask the Prince to stop smacking me?”

Louis shakes his head, expression fond. “You always look so outraged; it's adorable. Besides that one does as he pleases.”

“If he really wants to hit someone, Davin is begging for it.”

“Ugh,” Louis grimaces. “I don't think Davin needs any encouraging.”

“At least let me know… just give me one name, one that isn’t you,” Alerick begs then hurriedly adds, “And don’t say Lord Taffy. That’s cheating!”

“Alright,” Louis agrees, “I'm not Lord Daffy.”

“I already knew that as well,” Alerick says, unimpressed. "He isn't very intelligent; not like you.”

“He might be. We don't have the luxury of being ourselves. We must look a certain way, walk a certain way and speak a certain way,” Louis briefly adopts an affected accent and Alerick knows that voice; he almost has him after all, “You cannot tell which one I am because I don't act the way I do when I'm in paint. If I did you would find me in a heartbeat,” he snaps his fingers, “That's all for show. I'm an actor, so to speak, as are all my cousins.”

Alerick now finds himself studying each of the Xenali with fresh eyes, finding a new appreciation for their charms knowing one of them is Louis. After all he has never objected to their lithe bodies and gracefulness and he's grown used to all that skin on display. He finds he now has an admiration even for their feminity.

And they are taking notice. He’s never been flirted with so much in his life. His face is in a constant state of redness.

Lord Kitty has flustered him badly having backed him into a corner and breathlessly asking, “May I see it? Oh, it is quite big isn’t it?” As he pulls Alerick’s knife from its sheath.

“What a sight,” the Prince shakes his head clearly laughing at him. “Alerick, you look like a Mastiff terrorized by a kitten, afraid to move lest it scratch you.”

“But, your grace, I do scratch after all,” Lord Kitty playfully claws at Alerick’s chest.

“As well I know,” the Prince says with a wink. “He bites, too if you’re interested in that sort of thing.”

“I can’t quite figure out what this boy is interested in, cousin,” Lord Remy muses, “Other than, well…you know.

“He is a mystery, my dear,” the Prince agrees as he gives Alerick a quick smack on the bottom with his riding crop. “One we may never solve.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fontenelle’s ‘Conversations on the Plurality of Worlds’ is the inspiration for Louis’ and Alerick’s book. I have started reading it myself and hopefully some good quotes from it will be forthcoming.


	9. And I'm Giving You A Longing Look, Everyday I Write the Book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Books are read and discussed.

Alerick’s just gone off duty and stops by the kitchen hoping for some of Heidi’s pie.

Agnes is sitting at the table, head down, engrossed in a book. She swings her legs back and forth. As small as she is they don’t reach the floor.

“What are you reading, lass?”

She startles as if out of a dream, a condition caused by a good book that Alerick can well understand. “The Lion and the Queen, sir,” she holds up the book, ‘Madame Perpall’s Fairytales.’

He’s a bit taken aback. Although written for children it isn’t an easy book to read. That a child of five (a lowborn one at that) can do so is surprising.

“That’s a good one. Can you read it to me?” Alerick asks, curious to see if she truly understands it.

She reads well, barely hesitating over even the hardest words and expressions. She finishes with a big grin.

“You’re an excellent reader for your age,” he tells her admiringly.

Agnes’ grin abruptly vanishes, but before he can determine why Heidi bustles up. Ah, a child disappointed in having to go to bed he surmises.

“Agnes, remember to keep your books in your room," she says cheerfully, but her smile seems strained. “You don’t want to get them dirty, do you?

“I’m sorry, Aunt,” she whispers, shamefaced.

“It’s alright, lass. Come now, time for bed.”

“Goodnight, sir,” Agnes says as she takes her leave of him, the book clutched to her chest.

*  
If truth be told, Alerick had hoped once he knew Louis was a palace Xenali it would open a floodgate of repressed desire. That Louis would begin flirting with him as his cousins often do. Flustering him with the sexual innuendo he usually hates, but now would find most welcome.

He imagines Louis asking, “I wonder if you have the stamina of a bull?” as the Prince did on his first day at court.

At the time he was mortified, but now he sees himself suavely assuring him he does then sweeping Louis into a passionate kiss.

(This is beside the fact he has no idea if he does or not, but for Louis he will try.)

That night in the library, instead of doing research for their book he’s been studying Louis.

“You’re staring again,” Louis tells him without raising his eyes from the parchment.

“I’m going to figure it out,” Alerick assures him.

“Are you?” Louis’ tone is amused. “Don’t you have better things to do at the moment?”

“Sorry, I’m just…” he trails off sheepishly.

“No apologies necessary. Just look this over." As he reaches for the paper another one slips from the pile on Louis’ lap. Louis grabs for it, but Alerick is quicker. Upon it is a drawing of a young woman, her pink gown fashionable, yet modest. Her blonde curls artfully arranged, the only adornment upon them a small bow.

“Did you draw this, Louis?” Alerick asks, impressed.

“Yes,” Louis says as he takes the drawing back. “I thought our readers might like a picture of our noblewoman.”

“You’re very talented,” He tells him truthfully and it earns him a smile.

Soon they are engrossed in their work again. Thus far they have as their chapters: Ter is a Planet Which Turns on its Axis and Goes Round the Sun, Particulars Concerning the Planets, Every Fixed Star is a Sun, That Other Planets Are Inhabited. They are still debating on what others to include, not wanting to overwhelm their readers.

Alerick glances at the clock unhappy to see how late the hour is. The saying time flies while you’re having fun has never seemed truer. To have someone to share his interests and to put them to paper is amazing. To have that person be such a lovely lad; he is fortunate beyond belief. If only he knew Louis’ true identity…

The next day Alerick has determined his objective and he marches over to the Prince. The bodice of the Prince’s silver gown is covered in ruffles. The modesty afforded by the mass of tulle petticoats beneath it is negated, as the skirt still reaches only to mid-thigh on him. The ends of the Prince’s blond curls are dipped in violet paint to match his stockings. The same stockings he’d worn to his birthday party and for a moment Alerick recalls the feeling of silk flowing through his hands.

He bows and the Prince shakes his head in bemusement.

“What has gotten into you lately, my chickadee? It’s flattering- all this attention. You’re quite turning the heads of my more impressionable cousins. I fear you are in danger of breaking some hearts.”

“Yes, your grace,” he says boldly surprising himself, “I have a question for each of you.”

“By all means continue,” the Prince gestures gracefully as his cousins join them.

“What is your favorite book?”

"Why? Are you looking for some recommendations?” the Prince asks puzzled. “I wasn't aware you were able to read.”

Alerick can't help the glare he gives him, but the Prince's eyes are sparkling with mirth. He’s fallen into his trap again.

“It is ‘The Lover's Pursuit.' Have you ever heard of it?” The Prince moves closer and it puts him in mind of an animal stalking its prey. A small panther after a great lumbering water buffalo.

“No, your grace, I haven't,” he's already beginning to redden.

“Well, then I should tell you it is a book of sexual positions. All the different ways it is possible to fuck,” His skirts rustle as he thrusts his hips suggestively while the other Xenali giggle. “And just between you and me, some I'm not quite sure are possible.”

He looks Alerick up and down assessingly, “Although I have had a good deal of fun attempting them. I'd be happy to loan you a copy if you'd like. It might be educational for you,” the Prince says as he slowly draws a finger down Alerick's chest.

Alerick swallows hard.

“And what is yours?” the Prince asks, curiously.

‘Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy’. He glances around quickly to judge the cousins' reactions.

The Prince stares, then raises an eyebrow disdainfully, “My word, how ambitious of you. Sounds terribly dull.”

The question is now posed to the rest of the Xenali. Several agree with the Prince and he learns more than he ever wished to of how much Lord Berry enjoys erotic poetry.

“Only the society papers to see if I'm mentioned. And I always am.” Lord Remy informs him, smugly.

“Nothing,” Lord Candy says, “I hate to read; it's bad for the complexion.”

Each answer is more outrageous than the last and it’s becoming apparent that Alerick is being made sport of.

Lord Taffy says shyly as his baby blue pony tail brushes his bare shoulders. "I like fairytales. I know that sounds silly. The ones with a handsome prince,” he glances at the Prince adoringly.

"No, it's nice," Alerick assures him with a smile and the Prince nods in approval at him.

"Taffy, you are the sweetest." The Prince hugs Lord Taffy as he blushes.

“Well, is that all, my chickadee?”  The Prince asks.

“Yes, thank you, your grace,” his shoulders slump in discouragement.

“What would we do without you to entertain us, lad?” The Prince rises up on tip toe and pinches Alerick's cheek before sashaying away.

That evening Louis is practically trembling with held in laughter. “I don't think anyone but Taffy answered that one sincerely and well he was already out of the running.”

“And you definitely did not,” Alerick says, resentfully.

“You know I didn't,” He answers with an unrepentant smile, “Did you really expect me to?”

“I don’t know what I thought. It was a stupid question." Alerick groans in frustration.

“You were kind to Taffy,” Louis says, approvingly.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Many would have mocked him for such a simple answer.”

“I don’t do that to people. I don’t mock and I don’t tease like some I could mention.” This is said with some heat.

“I know you don’t, my honorable friend,” Louis tells him seriously then claps his hands together. “Let's cry peace and get back to our research." Next to him on the desk is the pile of books they've been using for reference. 

“You had your chance to discuss books with me earlier today,” Alerick grouches.

“If you forgive me I’ll give you a present,” Louis says, his tone wheedling.

“What is it?” He asks intrigued, daring to hope for a kiss.

“Say it.”

Alerick frowns at him then capitulates. “Alright, I forgive you." He could never stay mad at Louis anyway.

Louis pulls a package out of one of the desk drawers and hands it over.

Alerick is stunned. It’s a copy of ‘The Starteller’. “This is for me?” he asks, excitedly. “I mean to keep?”

“It is.” Louis grins broadly, “I know you were saving up for it.”

“Thank you!” Alerick enthuses as his earlier concerns melt away.

“It’s my pleasure,” he says with a fond smile, “And it is a pleasure to see someone enjoy learning as much as you do. That’s rare indeed around here.”

*  
Alerick and the other guards are finishing breakfast when Captain Lambois announces Daniels and Jakob are out with food poisoning, “Davin, you will attend the Prince today.”

“Yes, sir!” Davin says, with a big grin.

“If you are disrespectful at _all_ you will never have this opportunity again and you will be mucking out the stables for a month. Do you understand?”

“Of course, Captain,” Davin agrees solemnly as he salutes.

“What are you doing for the Prince exactly?” Alerick asks, bewildered by this new request.

“Sparring, laddie.”

“What?” Alerick asks in surprise, thinking he must have heard him wrong.

“Fencing lessons,” Davin tells him cheerfully. “Well, I'm off then.”

Alerick pictures the Prince teetering around in his high heels, attempting to swing a sword, his wig askew. He shakes his head in amusement and promptly forgets it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alerick's favorite book is one that in our universe was written by Sir Isaac Newton. Louis’ and Alerick’s book chapters are taken pretty much verbatim from ‘Fontanelle’s Conversations on the Plurality of Worlds.’ After attempting to come up with a name for their planet I just gave up and basically named it Earth (Ter). I apologize for my lack of imagination and the shortness of this chapter. I was too tired to do more!


	10. You're A Candy Perfume Boy

Alerick enjoys showing off for Louis, impressing him with his strength. Or at least attempting to do so.

On their way from the kitchen to the library, Louis asks, "Why are you picking me up?" as Alerick scoops him up in a bridal carry.

Alerick savors the solid warmth of his body, "You said you were tired."

"That doesn't make me incapable of walking on my own," Louis says with an exasperated sigh.

"I like carrying you." He harkens it back to the night of the Prince's birthday and the pleased noise the Prince had made before saying, "I should have you carry me everywhere I go from now on."

He wants Louis to make that noise for him.

"Believe me, I've noticed," Louis complains. "Now, put me down."

Alerick does. "Sorry," he offers sheepishly.

Louis stands up straight and says, "Thank you," in a dignified manner.

"I didn't mean any harm," Alerick shuffles his feet.

"I know. Come on, let's get to work."

Alerick follows him, admiring his trim figure which admittedly is somewhat obscured by his baggy clothes. However, well aware of the palace Xenali's charms, Alerick has a fair idea of what delights are hidden beneath.

Not long afterwards a small, soft sound alerts Alerick: a snore. Louis has fallen asleep (he was tired!) his head lies against the pillow, book slipped from his fingers to lay on the divan. Louis is so still; just a slow rise and fall of his chest. His face is flawless: creamy white with softly flushed cheeks, rosebud lips and straight nose, dusted with tiny freckles. Alerick especially admires Louis' delicately pointed ears which have always fascinated him. Even his eyebrows are beautiful. Alerick doesn't believe he's ever noticed a person's eyebrows before.

Alerick leans closer and when Louis doesn't stir, Alerick dares to kiss him on the cheek. Louis smiles in his sleep and Alerick takes heart from that. "I love you," he whispers, daringly. He holds his breath for a moment as Louis shifts then stills again. "I do so very much."

In short, Alerick is a man obsessed; helpless to his libido. He can scarcely concentrate on anything other than thoughts of making love to Louis. He finds himself desperate for his bunkmates to fall asleep so he can take himself in hand. Images of Louis bending over the desk, stretching up to get a book, reaching over Alerick to take back his pen, play over and over in his fevered imagination. He's in a near constant state of arousal.

The Prince snaps his fingers and Alerick startles out of his reverie. "A penny for your thoughts, soldier."

Alerick blushes. "I was, uh…"

"Oh, it's like that," the Prince says slyly, "Is she pretty?"

Lord Remy contemplates Alerick. "I think the real question, my dear is: Is she human?"

Lord Kitty laughs as if this is the most amusing thing he's ever heard. Davin later derides, "Lad's trying to claw his way up the pile, determined to be at the top. Probably thinks he can in time take Lord Remy's place at the Prince's side, the daft bugger."

Alerick desperately wants to answer him, but he keeps his tongue between his teeth. Finally with a bored shrug, Lord Remy resumes his conversation with Lord Kitty and the Prince.

Alerick is determined. He's going to kiss Louis the next time they meet. Or maybe not. What if Louis gets angry and refuses to meet with him anymore. He'd never want to chance that. He has to admit so far Louis hasn't any revealed any romantic interest in him and Louis clearly is aware of Alerick's. He'd put it so plainly after all. Maybe he doesn't believe Alerick's intentions are true. No, Alerick is certain Louis would never think that of him. Of course there's the fact that Alerick has only been kissed once. He hadn't given the lass much of a response, so it barely counts. He bemoans his disinterest in experimenting now. Louis has most certainly kissed a lot of people.

They've been working for some time now and Alerick keeps shooting nervous glances at the clock. He admires Louis' glossy curls, the light fresh scent of him, his sweet frown as he searches the shelves for a book. Alerick's been waiting for the right time to make his move and now he feels overwhelmed by desire.

Alerick bends down and as Louis looks up at him questioningly he kisses him on the lips. It's a tentative gesture not as bold as he'd planned. Louis lets out a sharp intake of breath, but makes no protest, so Alerick does it again. This time Louis kisses back parting his lips slightly and Alerick feels the fleeting touch of his tongue. Emboldened he pulls Louis into an embrace his hands on Louis' waist. Louis makes a small sound deep in his throat and Alerick thrills to hear it. It's very close to the pleased sound the Prince made the night of his party.

Louis' hands are clutching Alerick's back, hands fisted in the material of his shirt. They break apart to breath. Louis' lips are a rosy red, his color high.

He frowns. "We shouldn't…"

Alerick quiets him with a kiss deeper, more passionate than before. As Louis clings to him Alerick raises him up on tiptoe, dragging him against where he is hardest Alerick's hands drift from their hold on Louis small waist to cup his bottom, squeezing it as he's dreamed of for ages now.

Louis moans and Alerick's never heard a more beautiful sound. He's the cause of it! It's a better one than the Prince's. One finger has breached the waist band of Louis' trousers, reaching under his shirt stroking the silky soft skin of his back. He yanks at the fabric trying to tug it out of Louis' pants when he abruptly pulls away.

"Stop," Alerick's hand immediately stills.

"What's wrong?" Alerick asks, worriedly. Louis had seemed likeminded. Has he somehow hurt him?

"We should stop," Louis says, but he is pleasure flushed. His eyes have darkened to navy, his lips are slightly swollen, kiss bitten, his expression wistful.

"No, we shouldn't," Alerick makes to kiss him, to quiet him as he did before.

Louis turns his face away, pushing against Alerick's chest and Alerick releases him.

"Why do we have to stop?" Alerick asks.

Louis takes a deep breath, his eyes are troubled, "You know why."

"But, I…"

"It's late," Louis interrupts him, "I'm going to bed and so should you."

"I will. Take me with you," Alerick begs.

Louis regards him unimpressed. Stares him down as if he's a naughty lad until Alerick apologizes. "Sorry."

*  
Alerick spends the next few days in even more of a confusion than previously. His emotions are in an uproar. Louis had kissed him back. He had enjoyed their embrace. Alerick is positive he did. There must be some way for them to be together. Alerick thinks Louis may prefer an experienced lover. He should do some research. Read the book the Prince had recommended, 'The Lover's Pursuit', to help him know what to do if the opportunity were to arise.

Alerick shouldn't go to the library without Louis, but he's never been expressly told not to he justifies. Outside he hears a sound: Louis' voice. He's inside with someone. Alerick knows he should leave. Instead he opens the door a crack, curious and to be honest, jealous. It's Agnes. She sits on Louis' lap as they examine something together. It is his and Louis' book, 'The Conversations.'

"Is she a princess, Louis?"

"If you want her to be, but for now she's just a lowly countess."

Agnes giggles.

"But," he continues, "She is uncommonly pretty, with long blonde curls and big grey eyes."

"Like me," she agrees, smugly. Alerick has never heard her sound so confident, so secure… so unafraid is all he can think of. It dawns on him that Agnes is always afraid and so is Heidi when she's near.

"Precisely," Louis says, "After all I'm writing it for," he abruptly stops speaking.

"Who's there?" Louis demands and Alerick flees, knowing he's trespassed on something he had no business seeing.

The next time they meet, Louis' expression is wary, but he relaxes when Alerick makes no more advances or pleas. They fall into their usual companionable silence interspersed with: "Do you think? Or how about this?"

"Well, I'm off to bed. Long day tomorrow, Daffy's hosting a card party. Maybe I'll see you there?" Louis eyes are full of mischief.

Alerick gives him a dark look.

"Don't be a sourpuss, oh," Louis gasps as Alerick suddenly hugs him, taking a deep breath of his scent. Alerick can't help but note he seems to melt into the embrace, but he won't push it.

"What was that for?" Louis asks when released.

"You'll see tomorrow," Alerick says. Now it's his turn to be mysterious.

That afternoon at Lord Daffy's party as the guests are just about to sit down at the tables, Alerick spots the Prince and marches determinedly over.

"Ah, Alerick," the Prince sighs, blowing a strand of bright blue hair out of his eyes, "What is it today?"

"A contest to see which one of you smells the best," the Prince raises an eyebrow, "Er second best."

"See, cousins, he can be taught!" the Prince announces, triumphantly as the other Xenali cluster around them.

"Well, go ahead, me first," the Prince flutters his eyelashes (which are as blue as his wig) becomingly.

Alerick simply stares.

"Lad, come closer. What can you accomplish from so far away?" The Prince tilts his head and offers his neck. His skin is flawless and not for the first time Alerick wonders if it is as soft as it appears. He's gazing up at Alerick through his eyelashes and he feels a bit dizzy looking at him. His eyes are incredible up close. His smile is soft.

Alerick leans down and nervously sniffs the crook of the Prince's neck. His scent is very pleasing. It reminds Alerick of home, but as usual his nerves get the better of him and he loses his train of thought.

"Your grace, smells," he falters, "um, quite strong."

"I must say Juley, the two of you look rather cozy and not for the first time I'd wager."

Alerick is startled to hear the Archduchess' voice. He hadn't noticed her before. The Prince doesn't acknowledge her. Unfortunately, he's too focused on Alerick.

The Prince straightens, his smile is gone. He asks sharply, "Strong in which way?"

"I imagine like a rotten cheese. Limburger, perhaps?" The Archduchess offers.

"Really?" the Prince says, icily, one eyebrow raised in displeasure. Alerick's never been on the receiving end of his ire before. He's mocked Alerick, teased him, but never has he been truly angry at him. In fact, he can't remember the last time the Prince was mad at anyone. He's usually so full of good humor. Alerick figures he's in for it, having made the Prince look foolish in front of the Archduchess. And even though he didn't mean it, he feels disloyal.

Alerick becomes even more flustered under the Archduchess' censure having never gained her notice before. He manages to stammer out, "No, your grace, you smell strongly of... of flowers."

The Archduchess snorts indelicately.

"I believe this lad is implying you bath in parfum, cousin." Lord Remy remarks.

"This one may not be an admirer of yours after all, Juley," The Archduchess' tone is malicious.

The Prince is tapping his riding crop meaningfully against his palm. "Is this true?"

"No, of course not, it's good. You smell good, um... your grace."

Lord Remy moves closer to Alerick, his nostrils flare, an expression of distaste crosses his face. He says, "I wish I could say the same of you. Do you have a sweetheart, Alerick?" Lord Remy and the other Xenali are watching him closely. The Archduchess also seems interested in his answer

"N-no, your lordship," Alerick denies, mortified at speaking so in front of Louis while the others are listening.

"I smell a lie, cousin," Lord Kitty says, his smile spiteful.

"I agree. This one is attempting a deception," Lord Remy continues, "I will offer some advice for the sake of whichever poor lass..."

"Or lad, cousin," Lord Kitty interjects as the Archduchess snickers.

"…or lad you have made a conquest of. Wash your cock before you stick it in. Do you understand?" Lord Remy regards him meaningfully.

"Y-yes, your lordship."

"Do you have to be so crude?" the Archduchess screeches in disgust.

"Ah, now, my sweet," the Prince joins the conversation, "Men enjoy rough speech at times. Perhaps if you used some your husband's eye wouldn't wander so." His voice turns husky as he continues, "Anytime you want lessons in pleasing a man feel free to call upon me. I assure you, you'll learn a thing or two."

"How dare you!" The Archduchess says, furiously before flouncing off.

*  
Alerick arrives before Louis and takes the opportunity to search the stacks for 'The Lover's Pursuit.'

Once he's found it he looks around guiltily before opening it and promptly blushes scarlet. Practically the entire book is drawings of people having sex. Men and women, women with women and the last of most interest to him, men with men. He scans through it quite titillated. He hadn't known there were so many ways to do it. His simple fantasies about making love to Louis seem laughable and Louis undoubtedly has done most, if not all of them. He's easily able to picture Louis entwined in passion with another and jealousy wars with lust.

He hears someone approaching and hurriedly shoves the book behind him.

"Rotten luck today, my friend," Louis teases, but his expression is sympathetic and a bit subdued.

"I'm tired of feeling like a fool," Alerick sighs in aggravation.

"You shouldn't have told the Prince he stinks."

"He doesn't stink," Alerick says, heatedly, "And that's not what I said!"

The look Louis gives him is skeptical.

"He smells good, like the flowers in my mother's garden. It's a strong smell, but very beautiful."

"Should I be jealous?" Louis asks with a raised eyebrow.

Louis has admitted to being jealous! Alerick promises him, fervently, "No, never of him. I would never want you to be him."

"Why not? The favor of a prince is highly sought after," Louis watches him carefully and Alerick, rushes to alleviate his concerns.

"I can't imagine speaking with him as I do with you. He's clever. Too clever. But he makes me feel stupid and you never do."

"I don't think he's as smart as he thinks he is," Louis says, thoughtfully. "Wait. What are you hiding behind your back?"

"N-nothing," Alerick denies having forgotten all about the book.

"Nothing?" Louis repeats, his tone almost flirtatious, Alerick notes with a thrill.

"Nothing important," Alerick amends.

"Let me see it, then," Louis attempts to step behind Alerick.

"No!" Alerick blocks him, only to discover it was a feint. Louis slips around his other side and snatches the book out of his hands.

Louis blinks in surprise then says slyly, "Alerick, you naughty boy. Have you been reading this?"

"No!" Louis gives him a disbelieving look. "I mean I just found it."

Louis hands it back, "Hide this one well from your bunkmates. This book they may wish to read."

"I can take it?" Alerick asks, in surprise, "You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad? You're seeking knowledge. That's always a fine thing."

"So you've read it?"

"I have. It was practically a job requirement," Louis winks. "Don't be embarrassed. There's nothing more natural than a young man being interested in sex."

"Thank you." He wants to be bold enough to ask Louis how many he's done. All of them? And he's pretty sure Louis knows it.

"Sometimes I forget how young you are," Louis says, ruefully. "I should leave you alone."

"No, no, please, don't," Alerick implores him.

"And do you have a sweetheart?"

Alerick's heart begins beating double, no triple time. First the jealous comment and now this. Louis has never asked him anything like that before.

"I hope I do," he gazes into Louis' eyes knowing his heart is in his.

"One more try and I promise to tell you," Louis says, and then to Alerick's utter joy he kisses him. Just one small kiss to the corner of his mouth before drawing back to judge Alerick's reaction.

His desire sparks and Alerick pulls Louis into his arms, claiming his mouth; thrilling as Louis opens up to him, kissing him deeply.

They break apart and Louis says, "You're going to get hurt." His eyes are sad, his tone regretful.

"I don't care, you're worth it."


	11. Tell Me Your Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alerick uses the scientific method to solve a mystery.

They sit together on the library floor, Louis half in Alerick’s lap, papers strewn about as they work on their book. There’s been quite a lot of kissing, but not much more, surprisingly chaste. In truth Alerick had hoped Louis would throw him to the floor, climb upon him and ride him to completion. This is inspired by one of many compelling illustrations from his new favorite book, ‘The Lover’s Pursuit.’ Alerick spends as much time as he possibly can studying it. Never has he had such an interest in a book which is saying a great deal considering his passion for learning.

Alerick nuzzles Louis’ neck then kisses him under his jaw where there is a tiny scar he's never noticed before. The things you can discover with your lips!

“How did you get this?”

“Shaving.”

“Shaving?” Alerick repeats, confused, “I didn’t know Xenali could grow facial hair.”

“We can’t, hence the scar,” Louis says, ruefully. “My master was furious with me for ‘marring my beauty’, but I didn’t care. I wanted to be a man for once.”

Alerick’s heart clenches at this. He’s not sure what to say when Louis’ talks about being a slave. What’s acceptable to ask, so he picks the easier question. “You don’t like dressing the way you do?”

“Like a woman? Like a painted slut?” Louis says bitterly, “No, I do not.”

They are both silent for a moment as Alerick hugs him tighter.

Then Louis laughs and says, “I want to be seven feet tall and have muscles the size of boulders."

“I’m not that big,” Alerick protests.

Louis shrugs. “It feels that way sometimes.”

Louis turns in Alerick’s embrace; his face is solemn as he squeezes Alerick’s hand. “You’re too sweet, too good a person for court, for this… cesspool. Sometimes I wish you’d just go home.”

“No, absolutely not! Alerick protests, “I’m not some fragile flower that needs protecting. I may not understand everything. I know I get tongue tied, but there’s no place I’d rather be than here with you.”

Louis’ eyes search his before nodding. “Alright. Now, my lad, back to work.”

*  
Alerick’s seated at the kitchen table, mouth watering in anticipation. Heidi has been experimenting with a new cookie recipe, with Agnes' help and the kitchen is filled with the smell of cinnamon and spices. Agnes has proudly brought the platter of cookies to him, but before she can put one on his plate, Wolf leaps up and snatches the treat.

Agnes cries out, “Wolf, no! Drop it!”

Instead of complying, the dog takes off with Agnes in hot pursuit, bounding up the stairs that lead to the Gallery.

“Agnes, come back here!” Heidi shouts.

“I’ll get them,” Alerick assures her and sprints off.

He catches up with them determinedly barreling on just as the Prince and Lord Remy appear directly in their path. Guy and Belliers are on guard, the usual mass of courtiers and sycophants desperate for royal favor trail in their wake.

Alerick puts on a burst of speed and sweeps the Prince up in his arms before he is struck by the pair. The Prince lets out a small startled cry as he instinctively throws his arms around Alerick’s neck. His mouth falls open as he stares at Alerick wide eyed.

Now with the Prince out of the way, Wolf has tripped over Lord Remy’s train and knocked him to the ground. The dog’s muddy footprints cover Lord Remy’s dress, ruining the white fabric. A hush has fallen over the crowd readying themselves for Lord Remy’s wrath. Alerick racks his brain to think what he can do to shelter the child. Even the Prince seems to be holding his breath as Alerick carefully puts him down.

Guy and Belliers help Lord Remy rise; they too look worried.

Agnes stands before them her head bowed, ashamed, “I’m sorry, your grace, m’lord,” she begins to cry.

To Alerick’s complete shock, Lord Remy simply says, “It’s alright. I am uninjured.” He grimaces at his ruined skirt. “That is a shame,” he mutters under his breath.

The Prince pulls a lace trimmed handkerchief from his sleeve and hands it to Agnes. “Wipe your face, child.”

She dabs at her eyes, “Thank you, your grace.”

“Agnes, look at me,” Alerick is surprised the Prince knows her name. “It’s dangerous for you to be running above stairs. And you must promise to keep Wolf outside from now on, do you understand?”

“Yes, your grace,” she agrees with a curtsey.

The Prince pats her on the head, “Alerick, please escort Miss Agnes back to her aunt. Wolf, too.”

“Of course, your grace.” Alerick bows then takes Agnes by the hand. As he turns to leave he hears the Prince whisper, “Thank you,” to Lord Remy, his tone strangely intense.

As the Prince and Lord Remy lock eyes some communication takes place between them. Lord Remy strokes The Prince’s face, “Oh, love,” he replies, his expression tender.

Then in a much louder voice Lord Remy drawls, “Well, It seems a change of clothes is in order.”

Alerick heads back to the kitchens with Wolf and Agnes in tow; Agnes begins to cry again.

“Lass, it’s alright,” Alerick soothes her, “The Prince wasn’t angry with you, nor was Lord Remy. You’re very lucky,” he confides, “Lord Remy’s never been that nice to me.”

Alerick recounts the incident to Heidi who’s much more upset than the cousins were. “You know you’re to stay downstairs. What if the Duke had seen you?”

“I’m sorry, aunt.”

“Oh, lass,” Heidi hugs her fiercely. It’s private family moment and Alerick takes his leave.

*  
Alerick has decided there will be no more of his contests. The last one was a complete disaster that provided no useful information. Not that the first two had either. No, he must step up his observation game.

Alerick has been watching Lord Berry carefully. He thinks he sees some similarities to Louis. He's tall for a Xenali, as is Louis, and seemingly intelligent from what Alerick has observed .

It’s a beautiful night and Lord Berry has gone outside on the veranda presumably to enjoy it. Alerick follows him.

“Lord Berry?”

“Yes?” He turns toward Alerick enquiringly. Lord Berry's eyes are a deep brown, his curls a dark red, but Alerick's not expecting anything else. His gown is as red as his hair and very sheer; his shapely legs are clearly visible through the fabric.

“I was hoping we could talk.”

“Of course,” Lord Berry smiles coquettishly, he sits down upon one of marble benches gracefully motioning for Alerick to join him. Lord Berry crosses his legs, his shiny red boots gleam in the moonlight. He gives no sign he is Louis.

Now that Alerick has him alone his mind has gone blank.

“Well?” Lord Berry gently prods.

“I, I… um, yes, Lord Berry, what is your opinion on luminiferous aether?” 

Lord Berry blinks. He seems genuinely bewildered, but Alerick knows how good of an actor Louis is.

“I'm not sure I understand the question.”

“Well, um,” Alerick scoots closer hoping for a teasing smile to break free; a merry, “You found me!”

Instead there is a sudden interruption of their tete a tete.

“Berry, tell me true. Has this young man compromised your virtue? Only say the word and I will call for a priest.”

The Prince has sneaked up on them. Alerick leaps to his feet and bows.

Lord Berry giggles then says, “No, your grace, to my consternation Alerick has been a perfect gentleman.”

“Hmm, he is a bit slow, isn't he? Alerick, I feel compelled to offer advice on wooing. You see when chatting up a pretty young thing like Berry, you should perhaps chance a stolen kiss under the moonlight? Allow me to demonstrate.”

For a moment Alerick is afraid that the Prince will kiss him. Instead he bends down and cups Lord Berry’s face in his hands bringing their lips together. Lord Berry makes a small pleased sound and after he’s released his expression is rather dazed.

“There.” The Prince regards Alerick sharply for a second, before his face clears.

“Ah,” He nods towards the other Xenali who stand in the doorway giggling. “We have an audience. That always make things more interesting.”

“Please, excuse me, your grace, Lord Berry.” Alerick bows then walks away for once without being given leave.

Alerick’s mind is in a whirl. He knows he’s not the most observant person, but that seemed obvious even to him. The Prince was… could the Prince be jealous? Is the Prince interested in Alerick? Is he arrogant enough to believe that _two_ Xenali are interested in him?

Or just one?

The Prince coming out on the balcony to interrupt him with Lord Berry; had he misinterpreted the situation? No, Alerick’s sure that was jealousy. It would make sense that Louis would be jealous; he’s admitted as much.

No other Xenali ever seeks Alerick out. He’s never had Lord Berry or Candy or any of the others engage him in conversation first. There is flirting, but the Xenali flirt with everyone.

Is it possible that Louis is the Prince? Alerick’s almost afraid to know, it sounds so unbelievable.

He must rely on the scientific method. Back in his room he sits at his small desk and takes out pen and paper.

Louis is NOT Lord Daffy or Lord Taffy he writes. His pen hovers over the paper before he puts down: Louis is the Prince.

He sits for a moment in disbelief that he's written such an absurd sentence.

They resemble each other in as much as all Xenali do, considering that Alerick has neither seen Louis in paint, nor the Prince out of it. Their eye color is a mystery, but none of the Xenali have the same color eyes as Louis: that glorious sky blue. The Prince has purple eyes, a color he’d never heard of being possible for eyes to be. Maybe not even Xenali have purple eyes? Do all the Xenali have the ability to change their eye color? Or again just one Xenali? If he were to see the rest out of paint would their eye color remain the same? Alerick thinks they would.

Louis is most likely one of the older Xenali based on his treatment of Alerick, Louis has at times called him lad as does the Prince. Louis has also referred to younger cousins. The Prince and Lord Remy are the oldest Xenali. Alerick admits if he has to have one of them be Louis he will take the Prince over Lord Remy a thousand times over. So the thought that Louis may be the Prince has already become somewhat less frightening.

Alerick remembers carrying the Prince to his bedchamber. The bedroom ceiling, painted like a summer sky and when dimmed a summer night. He’d bet a month’s pay that every single constellation and planet is correctly depicted. Not just some pretty display of lights concocted for a bored aristocrat, but an actual scientific map of the galaxy.

When they first met in the kitchen all those months ago there was nothing of the Prince about Louis. Is his true self the same? He likes to tease Alerick as does the Prince, but gentler. Louis is a real person not this near perfect persona of wit, good humor and appearance. Louis seems to care little about his, with his plain clothes, his hair unstyled (even sometimes a bit messy). He shows no conceit or arrogance. He has a temper unlike the Prince, who’s smile rarely wavers under even the most stressful situations. Will Louis act more like the Prince once he knows Alerick has figured out who he is? Alerick doubts it: “I’m always putting on a show as are my cousins.”

The Prince’s situation is one he doesn’t fully understand, but this much is true: the Prince is married. This gives him pause, Alerick never thought he’d be the kind of person to disrespect marriage vows.

Alerick sits back in the chair, his shoulders droop, the pen slips from his fingers.

The fact is that while Alerick loves Louis, he doesn’t like the Prince very much. He’s not sure how to square away the differences they’ve had over the course of their “relationship.” Some he can will away, but things of late are harder to reconcile.  What to do? There’s nothing for it, but to face it head on Alerick decides. First he'll find out the truth; he'll figure the rest out later. He’s formed his hypothesis, now he must now test it.

The next day Alerick squashes his nerves and heads for the throne room. There, once he’s caught sight of the Prince he pauses a moment to really take him all in.

The Prince’s black leather pants fit him like a glove, his shirt is white lace and cropped, leaving his stomach bare. His lips are painted a glossy bright red and strawberry blond curls held back with a simple red ribbon hang to his slim waist. His shiny black boots’ heels are studded with silver spikes.

Alerick feels a little breathless looking at him. Whether he is Louis or not there is no denying that the Prince is a stunner. Something Alerick's known for awhile.  He's heard it’s possible to be attracted to more than one person at a time, but Alerick never has been. He thinks his subconscious mind has known all along.

“Your grace,” Alerick bows, moving quickly out of his way as the Prince climbs atop his throne.

“Alerick,” The Prince says, copying Alerick’s tone with a teasing smile. He seems genuinely happy to see him.

“I was wondering...” he falters. This is ridiculous, the Prince cannot be Louis. It’s impossible.

“Well, spit it out, boy,” the Prince orders.

“That's not what you said last night,” Lord Remy drawls and Alerick groans internally, willing him to leave.

“You, my love,” the Prince points his riding crop at Lord Remy, “have a very dirty mind.”

“Filthy, cousin,” Lord Remy curtseys mockingly and to Alerick’s relief saunters off. The Prince watches him with a fond shake of his head before turning his attention back to Alerick. “Well, Alerick?” The low intimate the way the Prince says his name jolts through him.

“Y- Yes I was hoping to, um,” Alerick quails a bit under the weight of the Prince’s regard. It’s daunting being the focus of such a strong personality, but what he has is all anyone at court wants. The courtiers make fools of themselves daily to claim to even a crumb of royal favor and Alerick has it; has had it as much or more than any other. He’s had this power for quite a while now and feels stupid for just now realizing it. Overwhelmed and unnerved Alerick as usual becomes flustered. He cannot for the life of him, remember what he was going to say.

The Prince grabs Alerick by his cravat and reels him in. “I quite despair of you,” he whispers and as the Prince tilts his head Alerick sees a tiny scar under his jaw, the same as Louis.

Shocked, despite confirming his hypothesis, Alerick gasps out, “You have beautiful eyes.”

“Are you on about that again? If I'm not careful you'll turn my head, won't you?” the Prince's eyes are full of affection and Alerick realizes it's been there all along.

“Well, you know, your grace, the eyes are the windows to the soul,” Alerick holds his breath.

“They are indeed,” the Prince's slow smile is so familiar Alerick feels like an idiot for not noticing it before.

“Shit,” he breathes out eyes wide.

“What vulgarity!” The Prince says in faux shock, “Be careful, my lad or I'll wash your mouth out with soap,” the Prince pushes him away playfully. He rises, moving to descend his throne.

“Remy, my love I have the sudden urge to…”

Alerick puts his hand on the Prince’s shoulder (something he never would have dared to before) and whispers, “Wait, will I see you tonight?”

“You shall,” the Prince says as he walks away, then looks back over his shoulder and winks.

Alerick watches him go, enjoying the view very much. Then he sobers, there is much for him to consider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter this fic should start earning its E rating!


	12. All The Stars Are Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alerick gets to the bottom of a mystery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long between updates! RL has been kicking my butt these past few months. I'm so sick of looking at this chapter though. So ugh... here it is- lol

Alerick goes to the gardens to think. He finds his feet leading him down the path to where stands the statue of the Prince. He thinks back to the night he spent here with Louis. The thrill of using a telescope for the first time and gazing at the heavens with his beloved. As Alerick gazes at the face, now uncovered he can see it’s clearly Louis, though the lips are quirked in a more flirtatious smile than usually graces his lips. The statue’s curls are a bit longer than Louis wears his and Alerick flushes red as he examines the rest, the graceful neck, the lean muscles of the stomach and pert bottom, fervently wishing the fig leaf away. 

Alerick sighs; it was one thing to wish for a relationship with Louis when he thought he was just a simple lad and then more when he discovered that Louis was one of the elite, but now- the Prince! There are serious impediments to consider: for one, his mind keeps returning to the fact that the Prince is married. He is not free to be with Alerick. But hadn’t that always been the case? After all, Prince or not, Louis is a harem Xenali and therefore not free to be with Alerick, regardless. No matter what, it’s certain there are limits to what he can give Alerick.

The fact of the matter is: Alerick will do anything, risk anything to be with Louis; it’s as simple as that. He cares little what that says about him morally. He sighs deeply again then with his mind made up he returns to the palace.

Alerick arrives at the library before Louis-The Prince. He finds he cannot sit; too nervous, he paces. He isn't sure how to act around Louis- the Prince anymore. One he's able to talk to so easily; the other makes him feel so foolish.

A small noise alerts him and his head jerks up. Louis-the Prince is standing in the doorway, looking uncertain, which is disconcerting to say the least. His unshakeable confidence is gone; he even looks a bit afraid, and so much smaller.

Alerick stares, trying to see the Prince in Louis; he blurts out, “You don't look like him.” 

“I know or you would have caught me out a long time ago.” Louis-the Prince moves closer.

Alerick takes a step back, “I don't know how to act around you anymore...your grace.” 

“I'm still the same, this is me,” Louis-the Prince tentatively follows, his expression vulnerable. “I know you didn’t want it to be me.”

Alerick opens his mouth to disagree then nods his head, “I didn’t.”

“I see,” there’s a flash of hurt in Louis-The Prince’s eyes, “Well, I’m sorry,” he says, frostily, “I’ll…”

“Stop that,” Alerick interrupts him.

“Excuse me?” is his haughty reply. He’s a mixture of Louis and the Prince now. After all Louis has always shown a bit of temper, but that way of holding himself is the Prince’s. Suddenly, Louis seems much larger than he is, but Alerick refuses to be intimidated.

“You can give me a minute to adjust before getting shirty with me.” 

He’s as shocked by his impertinence as much as Louis is, but he refuses to apologize or back down. Alerick can’t with this one or he’ll be run over his whole life; he can feel it. And he wants this for life badly, if it’s even possible, if it’s being offered.

Louis shuts his mouth, watching him with his huge blue eyes. Alerick feels powerful; it’s nice for once to be the one in charge. 

“How do you change your eye color?”

“I use cambire, it’s an herbal potion, very expensive and difficult to obtain.”

“Why?” Alerick asks bemusedly. “Your eyes are already so pretty.”

“Because the color of royalty is purple and my master believed it would differentiate me from my kin. To catch a king’s eye, what better way to stand out?”

“That sounds stupid,” Alerick says, baldly.

“Well, nevertheless,” Louis shrugs, “it worked, didn’t it?”

“You’re married,” and with that reminder Alerick deflates.

“Yes, in name only. He stopped loving me a long time ago,” Louis says with a bitter twist of his lips, “And now he can’t love anyone, poor man.”

Alerick is quiet for a moment; he doesn’t know what to say to that then, “I’ve watched you have sex with a lot of people.” 

“You know that’s my job,” Louis protests, heatedly, “It’s any Xenali’s job.”

Alerick shoots back just as heatedly, “Lord Taffy was servicing you, and you sat there and mocked me all the while ….” Alerick trails off as he fights a blush.

Louis winces, his expression chagrined. “In my defense we hadn’t become friends yet.”

“Is that we are? Friends? It seems to me you’re friends with a lot of people.”

Louis frowns at that, but before he can reply Alerick forges on, “Are you toying with me?” He thinks he already knows the answer but he’d like to hear it said aloud.

“No, of course not,” Louis denies, vehemently. “How can you doubt my sincerity? I have been nothing but serious with you.”

“Oh, have you? What of the times you’ve teased me mercilessly?” Alerick shoots back.

Louis gazes at him speculatively for a moment then his whole mien changes: his expression becomes arch, smile flirtatious, sly. “Teasing?” Louis drawls in the Prince's affected manner, “I assure you I have no further plans to tease you,” he pushes Alerick down onto a nearby chair, “What do you have to say to that?” 

“Um,” Alerick’s lost his train of thought, flustered as usual when dealing with the Prince.

“Speak up, my lad, I can't hear you,” Louis says as he climbs into Alerick’s lap, his smile big and tentatively happy. Alerick relaxes; he knows this person.

“You're not nearly as scary this way,” Alerick tells him smiling back, certain his expression mirrors Louis’.

“I see.” Louis raises an eyebrow in challenge. “Well, I must remedy that. I should have brought my riding crop with me.” Louis moves as if to smack Alerick.

Alerick grabs Louis’ hand, he places it over his heart. “Please, stop slapping me.”

“Alright,” Louis agrees and they sit for a moment gazing into each other’s eyes. 

Then Louis presses his lips to Alerick’s, kissing him until he’s dizzy. Louis’ hands fall to his shirt buttons and Alerick startles a bit sitting back.

“I’ve never lain with anyone before,” Alerick confesses his ear tips scarlet.

This confession sends Louis into a fit of giggles. 

“It’s not that funny,” Alerick says, resentfully, glaring at him.

“No,” Louis’ eyes widen in surprise, “what you’re serious!”

Alerick nods, glumly.

“But why? How? Are the good townsfolk of Chermine all blind and insane?”

Alerick flushes in pleasure at Louis’ genuine astonishment.

“I never wanted to before you. I’m a late bloomer, I guess, that’s what my mother says about me at least. As you yourself said, I’m having my ‘Spring Awakening’.

“Oh yes,” Louis’ expression turns sheepish, “And now you’re blooming,” Louis says with wonder.

“Yes.” 

“I knew you were inexperienced, but this… well, I don’t feel right about deflowering you here on the library floor after all.”

“What! Oh no, it’s fine, it’s wonderful,” Alerick hastens to assure him, hoping Louis is, as always, teasing him.

But Louis is regarding him solemnly, “You deserve better, lad.”

“I’m not a blushing maiden,” Alerick says, all while knowing his cheeks are on fire. 

“Are you sure?” Louis asks, amused. “It’s late anyway and I want to take my time,” his voice becomes husky, “with you.”

Alerick gulps and nods.

Louis climbs out of his lap and motions for Alerick to follow him. He does so curiously and is lead to a hidden alcove he’s never noticed before.

“See, here?” Louis points out a red rose on the wallpaper, he presses it and a hidden panel pops open to Alerick’s delighted surprise. “This leads directly to my chambers. Tomorrow night, after I’ve retired for the evening, come here and open the panel, then use this key,” Louis presses it into Alerick’s hand, “to open the door at the end of the corridor. Alright?”

“Yes,” Alerick agrees, enthusiastically.

“Good lad. Goodnight then,” Louis kisses Alerick sweetly. “Oh, and you may not believe it, but Remy was actually trying to help you.”

Alerick gives him a disbelieving look.

“The Archduchess was about to sniff us out,” Louis says with a straight face then dissolves into giggles at Alerick’s scowl.

“That’s not funny.”

“No,” Louis’ expression sobers, “but seriously, we have to be careful when in company.”

“Lord Remy scares me,” Alerick confides.

“He’s actually very sweet.”

“Really?” Alerick says, hopefully, as he must get along with the man if he’s to be a part of Louis’ life.

“No, not at all,” Louis says with a mischievous grin before slipping through the panel and shutting it firmly in Alerick’s face. 

Alerick smiles at his nonsense and whistling hies himself off to bed. 

*  
Now that Alerick knows Louis is the Prince he can’t stop himself from staring. He’s wondered before and now he has an excellent idea of what Louis looks like naked. The Prince’s outfit today is as always, outrageous: a sapphire colored chiffon coat, secured by one single bejeweled button just above his navel, matching skintight briefs, lace trimmed stockings and boots with shiny silver heels. 

The wig he’s wearing is much like his own hair, but fuller, the curls tighter, standing out from his face like a fan. Nestled amongst them is a silver headband with tiny star shaped charms. His eyes while still amethyst are lined with very little paint, his lips a soft pink.

“My dear,” Lord Remy holds up his quizzing glass, “You are quite au naturale today.” 

Lord Remy’s skirts are very sheer and cling to his legs and Alerick is careful not to so much as glance at them again. Behind his lordship Lord Armaud walks into a wall so distracted is he by the display.

“I wonder what could be the reason,” Lord Remy fixes Alerick with a steely stare then with a sniff saunters away. Lord Armaud hurries after him.

“Was there something you wanted, Alerick?” The Prince’s expression is placid, calm, but his eyes tell another tale, sparkling with mischief.

“Uh, no, nothing, your… grace,” Alerick stutters lamely, still flustered at being addressed by the Prince.

“Are you sure?” The Prince asks; a small frown of concern pinches his brow, “I do believe I’ve felt your eyes on me all day.” His eyes are full of affection, his smile encouraging.

“Yes, well it is my job after all to um, watch you,” Alerick manages a reply that is almost smooth. The Prince smiles approvingly and Alerick feels himself flush with pride.

“It is, isn’t it?” The Prince agrees as he arranges Alerick’s cravat to his liking smoothing it, his hands moving down Alerick’s chest. 

Davin coughs pointedly and Alerick is startled to see Lord Pellier is headed their way. The Prince steps back, unruffled. “Ah, Lord Pellier, how good it is to see you.”

Lord Pellier grimaces with distaste at the Prince's attire. “I must speak with you concerning a matter of some import, your grace.”

“Of course," the Prince agrees, smiling graciously. “Follow me.”

Alerick and Davin trail behind them until they reach the Prince’s office. The Prince ushers Lord Pellier inside and the guards take up their posts outside.

“Lad, you're a dark horse and make no mistake,” Davin tells him, shaking his head ruefully.

Alerick shrugs and smiles back at him rather smugly. 

*  
Alerick, alight with excitement, presses his hand against the rose as Louis had shown him. When the panel springs open he climbs through, closing it carefully behind him. It’s dark in the passageway, but he finds a lamp on a shelf, takes it and picks his way down to Louis’ chambers. He carefully uses the key and opens the door he comes to and finds he is in a room, no a closet. It’s huge and filled from floor to ceiling with clothes, boots and wigs all neatly arranged. There are even several crowns, including the one the Prince had worn for his birthday. Alerick stares amazed at seeing it all together like this; the magnitude of Louis’ other half.

Alerick enters Louis’ bedchamber feeling shy and a tiny bit afraid. Louis is seated at a huge vanity table. Today’s wig has already been removed and placed on its stand. He pulls off a stocking cap freeing his hair and shakes it out as his eyes find Alerick’s in the mirror. A slow smile, very pleased, graces his lips.

“Hello.” 

“Um, hello,” Alerick says as he places the lamp on a side table.

“Here, sit down,” Louis gestures to the bed, “This will take a while, unfortunately, and you might as well be comfortable.”

“Alright,” Alerick agrees carefully sitting down upon the satin covered bed, his hands splayed on either side of his body. The fabric is sumptuous, softer than anything Alerick’s ever felt. Fine linens weren’t something he, as a farmer’s son and soldier, was accustomed to.

He goes back to his ministrations and Alerick watches in fascination as the Prince becomes Louis. He removes his jewelry: earrings, rings, bracelets, putting them away carefully. Alerick winces as Louis pulls off the false eyelashes, as it looks painful. He begins smoothing a cream from a small pot over his face; the cosmetics are wiped away with a soft white towel, the colors disappear and Louis’ pale skin emerges.

After one more look in the mirror Louis seems satisfied with what he sees. He turns around on his seat stretching out one shapely leg. “Help with my boots?”

“Of course. I have done so before.” Alerick takes one of Louis’ legs and places it on his lap then begins to unlace, admiring the supple leather of the boot dyed a vivid blue and the heels covered in tiny jeweled stones.

“And you did such a good job last time.”

“You kept complaining that I was tickling you,” Alerick tells him, as one boot is now unlaced he starts on the other. 

“Did I?” Louis smiles. “I don’t remember.”

“Yes and you kept giggling. You were cute. I’d never thought that before,” Alerick pauses then decides to confess, “I had a dream about you that night.”

“Did you?” Louis says, obviously delighted. “Well that is news.” 

“Yes and I was horrified.”

“Poor lad,” Louis says, sympathetically.

Finished unlacing both boots Alerick slowly pulls them off one leg then the other as Louis watches, a secret smile curving his lips. 

“Where should I put these?” Alerick asks, uncertainly.

Louis takes them from him and unceremoniously tosses them to one side. 

“I’m guessing Jaspar won’t be happy with you.” 

Louis laughs; his face fairly glows with happiness.

Alerick’s hands make no move to strip off Louis’ stockings. He finds the idea of Louis wearing them even after Louis is completely naked arousing and he flushes at the thought. He waits afraid Louis will make a comment or remove them himself, but he seems to understand and Alerick appreciates not being called on it.

Louis rises, coming to stand between Alerick’s legs never breaking his stare as he removes his shirt. He lets it fall carelessly to the floor then slowly pulls off the tiny shorts until he’s left only in his undergarment, made of a thin white material that hides very little. Alerick’s mouth is dry as he takes in the beauty of Louis’ body: his flat, taut belly, lean muscles; for his slight frame his muscle definition is almost as good as Alerick’s. He reminds Alerick of the beautiful youths in the classical paintings he’d seen at the Queensport Museum.

Alerick jerks his gaze away and up to Louis’ chest. He clears his throat nervously, “Do you ever take them out?” 

“No,” Louis sounds amused. His hand moves to one nipple flicking the silver hoop and as it vibrates Louis sighs, his eyes half closed in pleasure. “It would be too difficult and painful, I’d wager to keep removing them.”

Louis’ hand has drifted down from his chest to his shaft. It strains eagerly against the cloth of his undergarment; a damp spot at the tip, clearly visible through the material.

“Now as usual you have me at a disadvantage.”

“What?” Alerick is having difficulty thinking so overcome as he is with lust.

“Me naked and you wearing entirely too much clothing.”

Alerick swallows hard before saying, “You’re not completely naked.”

“Oh really?” Louis’ eyes twinkle, “Well, if you take everything off, then so will I,” he offers stroking himself slowly through the soft cotton.

“Um, alright,” Alerick tugs at the buttons on his shirt unnerved by Louis watching him and unable to look away from where Louis’ hand is.

“That’s it, keep going,” Louis tells him approvingly as Alerick opens his shirt yanking it out of his trousers, beginning to enjoy having Louis watch him. He’s not feeling so shy anymore, but now eager to show Louis what he wants. Alerick’s never been ashamed of his body. He knows he’s strong and that others admire his muscles.

“Yes,” Louis breathes out, eyes glittering with desire, “Show me.”

Alerick’s pulse quickens and he unfastens his pants quickly tugging them down, “Um, boots?”

“Allow me,” Louis kneels at his feet to remove them as Alerick had done for him. The sight of Louis kneeling thus nearly undoes him.

Louis tugs them off and his boots are tossed aside with even more abandon than Louis’ had been.

Alerick strips off his trousers still too shy to remove his under linens and in truth enjoying the teasing game they’re playing.

“Hmm,” Louis says as he regards Alerick.

“You never make that sound when you’re not in paint.”

“Don’t I?” Louis rises to his feet, “Take off the rest.”

“You, too,” Alerick orders, then flushes at his boldness.

Louis nods with a delighted smile, removes his undergarment and stands exposed before Alerick. “As you can see, I’ve more things pierced than not.”

Alerick openly gapes. Louis’ privates are covered in piercings: tiny silver rings to match his nipples, a silver bar through the head of the shaft and jewels dotted over his scrotum. 

“That’s not painful?” Alerick finally manages; he can’t imagine having that done to himself.

“No,” Louis assures him and touches one of the jewels as he had his nipples. 

Alerick gazes in fascination as he takes in all of Louis’ attributes. Lord Remy’s sly comments now revealed as truth. “How do you hide that?”

“Magic,” Louis winks, “Now you.”

Alerick has nothing to be ashamed of either, but he feels bashful removing that last barrier. Although he’s used to bathing or dressing in front of his brothers or other soldiers, he’s never undressed in front of another person, deliberately to be looked at.

“Very nice,” Louis’ obvious pleasure at looking at him makes Alerick preen a bit. 

Louis climbs onto Alerick’s lap, twines his arms around Alerick’s neck and kisses him slowly, sweetly. Alerick’s breath hitches at the touch of Louis’ shaft to his; it’s every bit as hard as Alerick’s own. He’s almost overwhelmed by the sensation of them rubbing together as they rock against each other; the strange, yet erotic feeling of Louis’ piercings.

Each kiss melts into another as their mouths come apart and then crush together again. Alerick’s hands grip Louis’ slender waist before drifting downward, pausing for a moment to stroke the satiny skin of the small of Louis’ back. Louis arches his back in mute appeal and thus Alerick feels emboldened to press on until he has both hands full of Louis’ lovely bottom. As he squeezes, his fingers slip easily into the crease and he groans in excitement. Louis breaks their kiss to smile at him knowingly.

“I, uh,” Alerick removes his hand, “Sorry,” he says, cheeks flame red.

“What are you sorry for?” Louis asks and with a fond laugh he climbs out of Alerick’s lap. This dismays Alerick until Louis flops down on the bed, belly first, lifts his hips and shakes his bottom (very appealingly framed by the lace stockings). He looks over his shoulder, “Is this what you wanted?”

Alerick’s mouth goes dry with desire as he kneels behind Louis. He briefly pets the lace trim of the stockings before running both hands purposely over the creamy mounds he’s spent a considerable amount of time envisioning. They are as becomingly flushed as the rest of Louis, firmly muscled and covered with silky smooth skin and between is the enticing cleft wherein lies that which Alerick most covets.

Louis hips still wiggle enticingly as he searches for something under the pillows. Alerick is fixed where he is as he watches the play of Louis’ muscles in rapt fascination. “Here. You’ll need this,” he says with a wink as he tosses Alerick a small bottle filled with oil. 

In his eagerness Alerick nearly drops it and Louis giggles; a sound Alerick dearly loves to hear.

“Do you know what to do?” Louis asks once recovered.

“Yes, I think so,” Alerick replies, “the um book, The Lover’s Pursuit, it… was very educational.”

“Ah, yes, the book,” Louis teases, “The lad’s so well read. Go ahead then, let’s see what you’ve learned.”

Louis is so much smaller than Alerick and as he gazes at Louis’ beautiful upturned bottom, his slender waist, Alerick fears Louis might not be able to …accommodate him. But as Louis seems unworried, Alerick proceeds, hands questing, thumbs parting the narrow crease to discover the hidden delight now exposed to Alerick’s eyes: a dusky rose, sweetly puckered. Alerick gently presses one oil slicked finger to it, relieved when it slides easily inside. Louis’ breath hitches, his hips shift restlessly. Alerick adds another and Louis pushes back onto Alerick fingers moaning softly as he does so.

Louis’ so tight, so silky soft inside and Alerick’s desperate to be inside him.

“Th-that’s good,” Louis gasps, “I don’t need much preparation.”

Alerick’s momentarily unhappy at this reminder of Louis’ wealth of experience, then chides himself to not be so childish, so thoughtless.

Alerick removes his fingers and coats his erection with the oil-quickly!- for in his excitement he fears he’ll disgrace himself. Ready now Alerick hovers over Louis trying to see how best he can mount Louis without crushing him As he settles gingerly on top of him Louis spreads his thighs further apart and lifts his hips. 

“Want your cock, lad.” 

Alerick grasps his shaft eagerly and breaches Louis’ slim body that yields so readily to him. Alerick gives out a loud gasp of pleasure, close to a sob until fully seated his stones snug against Louis’ lovely bottom.

“Oh,” Louis says with a breathy moan.

Alerick thrills to hear the sound; it’s definitely one of approval and it sends him into a fever of want.

Alerick thrusts again harder this time and startles as Louis’ small body is so easily pushed forward under the force of it. It’s shocking how easily he can… move Louis. 

“Are you alright?” Alerick asks, pausing in alarm, afraid he’s hurting Louis, his body trembling, wanting nothing more than to do it again.

“Y-ess, c’mon soldier, fuck me,” Louis demands almost slurring his words. 

“Yes, sir!” Alerick agrees wholeheartedly, yet taking note he must be careful not to ram Louis’ head into the headboard. 

Alerick braces one hand on the bed to hold himself up, the other on the jut of Louis’ hip holding him in place as he drives into him. Louis is making the most amazing little cries. He tosses his back and forth panting as he pushes back onto Alerick’s shaft. 

“Ah, ah! Wa-wait!”

Alerick’s hips stutter, uncertain. “Are you-?”

“No, don’t stop… just let me up,” Alerick scoots back as Louis lurches to his knees. “Yes, there.” 

Alerick approves; this is an even more exciting position! Now as Alerick takes Louis he can more enjoy the view of that lovely bottom bouncing enticingly (and not be afraid of suffocating him). And even with all the maneuvering Alerick has managed to not slip completely free from the clasp of Louis’ body. Plunging once more between his supple thighs Alerick’s hand slips from Louis hip to brush against his member. Louis sucks in a harsh breath, “Touch me.”

Alerick gladly complies. His fingers find the silver bar at the crown; he rolls it between them marveling at the feeling of the metal contrasted with the velvety hardness of Louis’ arousal. It more than fills Alerick’s palm and he tightens his grip around Louis as Louis lets out a little growl thrusting through the tight ring of Alerick’s fist. 

Alerick with an answering growl of his own sits back on his heels, and hooking his arm around Louis’ slim waist hauls him up and back onto his lap, manhandling him easily. Louis’ legs are now splayed open as wide as can be and Alerick slides even deeper into his heat. Louis’ head lolls against Alerick’s shoulder; he whimpers in mindless pleasure as they move together as one. Alerick buries his face into the crook of Louis’ neck taking deep breaths of his heady scent, pressing frantic kisses to Louis’ sweat dampened throat.

“Louis,” Alerick near sobs, overcome with all he feels, “Louis, Louis.”

“I… yes,” Louis chokes out. His lips find Alerick’s, the angle which would be difficult in a less impassioned embrace is here perfect. Though before too long their lips part, both breathing too hard to do anything but pant against each other’s mouths. Louis’ hand clutches at the arm Alerick has around his waist; nails digging in as Louis whimpers “Ah, ah, ah!” 

Alerick tightens his hold trying to stay tethered, to delay his climax; yet he’s too close, and with that thought Alerick throws his head back unable to hold out any longer. He roars his release, caught in exquisite ecstasy as he pulses deep inside Louis. Yet somehow Alerick manages to stay aware enough to take care of Louis, whose slender body stiffens then relaxes abruptly as he spends all over Alerick’s hand.

Alerick collapses to one side pulling Louis with him, cradling him tenderly. “Did you like it? Did I do it right?” He feels stupid, but can’t stop asking for reassurance.

Louis laughs fondly and kisses him on the cheek, “Yes, you were perfect, I can scarce catch my breath. I’m certain if I looked in the mirror I would be the absolute definition of well fucked.”

“That is high praise indeed,” Alerick tells him, solemnly.

Louis directs him to fetch a towel and basin though he’s reluctant to leave their embrace, to withdraw from the heat of Louis’ body. Alerick cleans his hand and Louis’ belly then they lay back together sated and peaceful. Alerick stares up at the ceiling fascinated by the detail of the tiny heavenly bodies above them. 

“How fortunate you are to have this to look at every night.”

Louis hums in agreement then snuggling close falls asleep. Alerick holds him gazing at the ceiling for some time, utterly and completely happy, before sleep claims him as well. 

Alerick as a trained soldier wakes early only confused for a moment as to where he is. Louis still slumbers, his chestnut curls are in an endearingly wild tangle against Alerick shoulder. His lovely face is softly flushed, his lips curved in a slight smile. Alerick hopes he’s the cause of it. 

Louis begins to stir. “What time is it?” he murmurs sleepily.

“It’s early,” Alerick cranes his head to see the clock. “For you at least.”

Louis sits up stretching his arms wide, “We should bathe,” he announces. 

“Must we move?” Alerick complains, “I’m so comfortable.”

Louis shifts his hips his expression thoughtful then he smirks, “Ah, but lad, you’ve made quite the mess. I may have to insist you clean it up.”

For a moment Alerick is confused as to his meaning then his stomach twists hot with arousal. He demands, “Let me see.” 

Louis grins naughtily and spreads his legs, fingers probing gently between them. Alerick bats Louis’ hand away replacing it with his own, surprising himself with his possessiveness, his need to see where he’d left his mark, his seed. His thumb slides inside Louis as easily as a hot knife through butter, his knuckles graze Louis’ stones. 

Louis watches with hooded eyes, his shaft hardening, hips lifting, circling round, clearly enjoying Alerick’s touch. He bites his lip and shudders as Alerick's thumb moves in and out of him. “You've thick fingers, lad.”

“I've something thicker,” Alerick mutters and only blushes a little as he says it. 

“Do you now?” Louis’ eyes gleam as he unashamedly moves on Alerick’s thumb. “Tell me what that might be?” 

“My mem…”

Louis frowns and makes a disapproving noise.

“My cock,” Alerick says, hastily dearly wanting Louis’ approval. 

“Good lad,” Louis praises him, his smile soft. 

“I, can I..?” 

“What?” Louis asks, his brow furrowed as if puzzled, then he moans loudly pushing down hard taking Alerick deeper inside.

“I, I want to…” Alerick stops frustrated, yet still embarrassed to say it, to ask, to take.

“What do you want, lad? I don’t understand,” Louis asks with another breathy moan, now obviously for show.

Alerick abruptly removes his hand and hauls Louis onto his lap. From there it’s the easiest thing in the world to push between Louis’ legs and fill him up with Alerick’s cock.

“Good heavens!” Louis shouts, his blue eyes wide with mock confusion. “What are you doing, lad?”

Alerick growls, “I’m fucking you.”

“Good lad,” Louis says cupping Alerick’s cheek tenderly with one hand, but before Alerick can kiss him Louis frowns again, “I can hardly feel it though. Put your back into it, soldier.”

“Yes, sir,” Alerick says and proceeds to fuck Louis into the mattress. Again.

Afterwards, Louis says with a hugely satisfied sigh, “That was glorious, but now we truly need to bathe.”


	13. I Want Candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alerick deals with jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, for the late update, I've been really busy! I also took some time to write a treat for an Original Works exchange pairing I loved. The pairing was pirate king/male captive and I started to make it an Alerick/Louis AU with Louis as the pirate, but it just wasn't working. I'd still like to write a pirate AU for them, though. I love pirates lol

Louis’ bathing room is huge; the marble tub is large enough to hold five or six full grown adults. Along the ceiling, the edge of the bath tub and the doors are carvings of naked sprites and mermaids frolicking in waves of foam. The barracks has a bathing room of course, but it is far from luxurious and soldiers are expected to bath quickly.

Louis climbs into the bath and Alerick follows. Alerick’s eyes close as he sinks into the heated water; it feels like heaven. In this relaxed atmosphere he feels free to ask a question he's wondered about for quite some time. Alerick tells Louis, “There are many things about the Xenali I don’t understand.”

Louis takes a deep breath and begins to explain.

“We, Xenali, are owned by the crown, which is nominally the King, but more so the Council and before too long the Archduke. “My main function is to broker deals, promote Ravant’s interests, and cement alliances. Seduce, spy, entrap, whatever it takes,” Louis says carelessly though Alerick knows he is far from it.

“My cousins all do their part to aid in these campaigns. We, Xenali also keep the nobles of Ravant under control. The crown wants them here at court so there won’t be any intrigues as there were in the past. Courtiers must be housed, fed and most of all entertained; boredom often leads to plots. As you may have noted many of my cousins have particular friends as well. Nobles who are especially powerful or with outside ties to countries we need to keep a close eye on.

“Lord Pellier and the Archduchess would dearly love to see me fail, to be removed from power, but as long as my skills are required they can do little to me. That may change when Max ascends or he may still decide I’m useful.”

Louis continues his tone serious, “We’re safe here in my apartments, no one in or out, my privacy is inviolable. And a harmless flirtation can be overlooked during the day. We are in danger if one of my enemies knows I truly care for you. They will use it against us. They will use it to hurt you.”

“The King doesn’t mind about the…,”Alerick trails off unsure if it’s a sensitive subject.

“No, quite the contrary,” Louis says with a bitter smile, “It’s my only worth isn’t it after all?”

“That’s not true! You’re worth more than the entire Council plus the court combined,” Alerick says, passionately.

“And that’s just one reason why I like you so much,” Louis says with a fond smile.

“Only like?” Alerick says fishing for more.

Louis’ smile only broadens. Then his expression grows somber again, “I have to believe I’m making a difference for the people at least,” Louis says his expression wistful. “Max is cruel and arrogant and I fear that when he ascends the common folk will suffer most from his greed.”

“Master Hughes once told me that Ravant was secure and prosperous in large part due to you.”

“Yes that's true. We’ve been at peace for some years thanks to my predecessor as well.”

“Predecessor?”

“The King’s third spouse, Queen Ladia. She taught me well though she doubtless never envisioned how far I’d climb,” Louis says, with a chuckle.

“How many spouses has he had?” Alerick says in fascination.

“I’m the fourth, the others died in childbirth. After three wives and many still born babes the King declared he would marry whomever he pleased; no more foreign princesses. He wanted to shock people; he was tired of being managed, so he chose me."

"I’d say he succeeded," Alerick says and Louis laughs ruefully.

*  
That day Alerick walks around in a haze of joy reliving every moment of his and Louis' intimacies. Upon seeing him, Davin gives him a speculative look, “Ah lad good for you,” he says with a hearty slap on Alerick's back.

“What?” Alerick says playing dumb.

“It's clear you got laid last night.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Alerick says, but the denial comes out smugger than he’d meant it to.

“You’re the luckiest bastard I know,” Davin shakes his head admiringly, “I wish I knew what your secret was.”

“Let’s go; we’re going to be late,” Alerick says (they aren’t, but he wants no further part of this conversation).

Alerick and Davin stand watch in the solarium as the Xenali entertain several high ranking lords and ladies at an exclusive, lavish afternoon tea. The guests are clearly thrilled to be in attendance. The Xenali flirt and flatter making them all feel special. Lord de Beauvais newly come to court seems enthralled as Lord Berry hand feeds him pieces of orange. Alerick now understands the true purpose of such an affair: controlling the nobles.

The Prince rises from the table signaling the entertainment is over. The courtiers bow and curtsey giving effusive thanks. The Prince’s crop lies forgotten on the table. Lord Taffy retrieves it handing it to the Prince.

“Thank you, my dear,” the Prince says giving Lord Taffy a quick kiss on cheek.

Alerick sees the adoration in Lord Taffy’s eyes, his pleased little grin. The expression freezes as he meets Alerick’s eyes. Lord Taffy becomes visibly frightened and Alerick realizes he’s glaring at him. He quickly jerks his gaze away. Lord Taffy, the youngest (and smallest by far of the Xenali), would be defenseless against someone of Alerick’s size and abilities. Alerick is ashamed of himself. His main duty, of course, is to the Prince, but there is also an expectation to protect any of the Xenali as well when necessary.

Still it bothers Alerick, the thing with Lord Taffy; it’s not just business. Louis can’t get anything of value from Lord Taffy. That was sex for pleasure and Alerick isn’t going to stand for it. It’s hard enough watching Louis with his “friends”, but that he can at least understand.

“Are you still involved with Lord Taffy?” Alerick asks abruptly one evening.

“Involved?” Louis says; he seems genuinely confused.

“Sex,” Alerick bites out, “Are you still having sex with him?”

“No, of course not,” Louis says, indignantly.

“Why were you? He isn’t politically advantageous. You told me you don’t do that unless…” Alerick swallows hard, afraid, “except with me.”

Louis stares at him for a moment. “When a new Xenali is brought into the household they are highly trained, but still technically untried. I take care of the last part of their training and give them a better experience than they probably could expect for their first time. Someone who cares for their feelings before they’re thrown to the wolves,” Louis says, bitterly. “It’s still business though.”

“And the next one? Will you train them, too?” Alerick hates how small his voice sounds.

“I don’t plan on there being a next one,” Louis says, his face pensive. “Now, listen," he says apologetically, "I’m going to be very busy the next few days planning for the visit of the crown prince of Bavior, so we won’t be able to meet until after he’s left.”

Alerick’s heart sinks. He thinks of all the foreign dignitaries who’ve been entertained by the Prince since Alerick’s arrival and he flushes in anger. Especially with regard to the Duke of Ascay; he’d been furious enough before he knew Louis’ identity. What would he have done if he’d known back then; he would have surely killed the swine. Alerick fights to stay silent, to make no demands, but his expression must give him away.

“Please don’t,” Louis says worriedly both of his hands grasping one of Alerick’s, “Please try to understand.”

“I hate watching you with them,” Alerick says, defeatedly.

“I wish you didn’t have to, that I didn’t, but when we’re out there we’re on duty. It isn’t real. None of it matters,” Louis says flippantly, but he squeezes Alerick’s hand hard.

“How can you say it doesn’t matter?” Alerick says, heatedly.

“This is our reality and if you can’t accept that then we have to end this. Is that what you want?” Louis says as he gazes into Alerick’s eyes.

“No, of course not,” Alerick denies.

Louis smiles winningly and says, “You never liked the Prince anyway, so just think of me as him. Promise me you won’t make a scene.”

Alerick nods unhappily.

Louis regards him solemnly, “I’ll do my best to limit… contact, but I cannot promise I won’t…,” Louis pauses before saying carefully eyes serious, “I have to do what’s necessary to achieve this deal. I’m sorry. I wish I could give you better news.”

“I understand,” Alerick says with a weak smile. He doesn’t want to give Louis any more to deal with; he wants to be supportive.

“Good lad,” Louis says with a brilliant smile. He kisses Alerick sweetly, “Thank you.”

*

The reception for Prince Klauss and his advisor is different from any other Alerick’s witnessed. The Xenali are conspicuous by their absence, not even Lord Remy is present. The Prince’s outfit has truly shocked Alerick who thought he’d gotten past that. The Prince wears a simple cream colored gown with long sleeves, a small amount of lace trim at the collar and wrists. His blond hair is arranged in a simple chignon. His cosmetics are more subtle than usual, his lips a pale pink.

“His lordship, Count Thonn,” the herald announces the Bavior delegate with a trumpet flourish.

Count Thonn is a tall thin man of middle years with pale sallow skin and wispy blond hair. His expression upon seeing the Prince is one of distaste; a sour twist of his lips.

The Prince doesn’t offer the Count his hand as he normally would a guest. Alerick judges the man would have snubbed him. Anger stirs in him; how dare the Count look down upon the Prince.

“Count Thonn, how lovely to finally meet you. I hope your journey was a pleasant one,” the Prince says, smiling becomingly, his pretty face alight with pleasure.

“As well as could be expected, your grace,” the Count offers, tone abrupt, his bow barely sketched.

“And Prince Klauss?” the Prince glances about inquiringly.

“Prince Klauss is a short distance behind me. I wanted to set some boundaries before he arrives.”

“Oh?” The Prince says a frown pinches his brow, eyes blinking in surprise.

“Your grace,” the Count says, cynically, “Not all are taken in by you and your…charms.” The Count pauses a moment to glance with displeasure at the Prince. “Prince Klauss is young and in need of good counsel, not to be derailed by cheap tricks and tawdry displays. We will be working with Lorde Pellier to finalize the details. You are not needed,” The Count says, dismissively.

The Prince’s smile never wavers even under the insult. He nods graciously. “Well, then I’ll have Lord Pellier sent for,” he beckons to a page and instructs the boy to give Lord Pellier the message. The Prince gestures to a servant who stands nearby with a tray. “Would you care for some wine until …?”

The Prince halts in his tracks in front of a pretty dark skinned woman with large brown eyes and black curls arranged fetchingly atop her head; her plain green gown (as modest as the Prince’s) fits her most becomingly.

The Prince’s eyes widen in surprise. “I say, Lady Gamada! It’s been some time,” the Prince greets her happily, “How have you been?”

“Very well, I thank you, your grace,” Lady Gamada says as she curtseys.

“I’m so sorry, Count,” the Prince tells him with an apologetic smile, “that was rather rude of me. It’s just I haven’t seen this beautiful lady in quite some time. Oh, where are my manners? Allow me to introduce you, Count Thonn this is Lady Gamada.”

“Lady Gamada,” the Count stammers, his expression amazed.

Lady Gamada curtseys. “Count Thonn,” she says with a warm smile, “how good it is to see you again.”

“Oh,” the Prince says in surprise, “Do you know each other?”

“We did quite some time ago,” the Count says and Alerick notes the Count seems to be blushing. His long thin face seems softer, more human, and less austere.

The Prince smiles and says knowingly, “I feel there’s a story here, but I promise not to pry. I am happy to give you two some privacy.”

The Count nod agreeably as Lady Gamada offers her arm. The Prince has already been forgotten.

When the page boy returns not long after to regretfully inform the Count that Sir Pellier is indisposed the Count scarcely seems concerned.

He and Lady Gamada are in fact nowhere to be seen as Prince Klauss’ carriage is sighted coming down the driveway; the Prince waiting to greet Prince Klauss warmly on the very steps of the palace, a high honor indeed.

The Xenali have materialized as if from the aether, their outfits as skimpy and outrageous as usual to gather around the Prince.

The Prince’s hands move to the front of his gown and rips it open from neck to ankles. He then tosses the dress to Lord Daffy who spirits it away. Lord Remy is busy yanking out the pins holding the Prince’s hair. He runs his fingers through the curls arranging them artfully. Lord Cherry quickly applies a shiny red gloss to the Prince’s lips just as Prince Klauss’ carriage pulls up in front of palace.

The Prince’s long golden curls trail over one shoulder. He walks forward on his high strappy violet colored heels to greet Prince Klauss. His dress, a lovely flowered sheer print manages to reveal more than it covers. Its low cut bodice exposes both of the Prince’s nipples, pierced with silver bars. Tantalizing glimpses of his lace trimmed knickers can be viewed through the high cut slit of the gown. It flows gracefully behind the Prince. Alerick is simultaneously struck by lust and jealousy. He fights to hide his feelings as the Prince smiles flirtatiously at Prince Klauss.

Prince Klauss, a plump young man around Alerick’s age, is obviously overwhelmed by such a display; his plain face is open and guileless. He’s all but panting as he gazes at the Prince.

“It’s lovely to finally make your acquaintance, your highness,” The Prince says with an appreciative smile as he curtseys.

Prince Klauss responds eagerly, “Yours as well. I have heard many good things about you,” Prince Klauss daringly looks the Prince up down, “And they do not do you justice.” He blushes furiously at his boldness.

“Hmm, aren’t you just the sweetest?” The Prince says his smile wide.

Prince Klauss visibly shakes himself and craning his neck about says, “Hasn’t Count Thonn arrived yet?”

“I’m afraid he has disappeared with a pretty lady; an old flame I suspect,” the Prince winks. Prince Klauss seems unconcerned.

“Shall we go inside, my dear?” The Prince offers his arm to Prince Klauss and they stroll into the palace together. He leads Prince Klauss to a secluded alcove wherein lies a settee and a small table set with gold trimmed crystal flutes and a huge bottle of champagne. The Prince pulls the bottle from the ice, “I’ll open this for us.”

The Prince seems to be having some difficulty holding the bottle in his small hands. Prince Klauss makes a move to help him.

“It’s alright,” the Prince says and laughs gaily as he places the champagne bottle between his thighs gripping it tightly. It’s a suggestive configuration that’s not lost on Prince Klauss. There’s a loud pop of the cork and the Prince laughs as champagne froths over his fingers, “Oh dear I’ve made a mess haven’t I?” He licks the champagne from his hand lapping at where it’s trailed down his arm. “Hmm, that’s good,” he declares then pours Prince Klauss and himself a glass. Prince Klauss, so transfixed he’s been during this display, nearly drops it.

“Here sit beside me,” the Prince says as he sinks gracefully onto the settee, “and tell me more about your family, my dear.”

Prince Klauss does so with alacrity, his young face flushed with excitement.

“What would you like to know?”

The Prince’s eyes gleam, “How is your uncle?”

“He is unwell, your grace,” Prince Klauss tells him, artlessly.

The Prince makes a sympathetic noise and thus begins the delving for information he does so well. He soon has the young heir to Bavior spilling intimate details of its royal family.

Prince Klauss suddenly halts, “I probably shouldn’t have told you that,” his eyes are distressed.

“I assure you my lips are sealed, my dear,” the Prince presses a finger to them drawing attention to their vivid redness. His eyes twinkle mischievously, inviting the young prince to smile in relief. “I mean for us to be friends and friends share confidences, do they not?”

“Yes,” Prince Klauss agrees gazing at the Prince as if mesmerized.

“Good,” the Prince says as he pours Prince Klauss another glass of champagne, “I’ve heard your cousin Ivar is to be married soon.”

Prince Klauss drinks deeply before saying, “Yes, but they do not care for one another; they pretend for the public.”

After their tete a tete, the Prince leads Prince Klauss into the dining room for the welcome banquet in his honor. The banquet has been in full swing for some time before Count Thonn and Lady Gamada join them full of smiles and (Alerick judges) quite a bit of champagne. The Count and Prince Klauss pay little attention to each other, both intent on more interesting and lovelier company.

The next day the court is all a buzz with a scandal. The Count and Lady Gamada have eloped. “Good heavens,” the Prince says genuinely surprised, “Even I hadn’t dared to dream of such an outcome.”

The Prince is holding a dinner party for Prince Klauss in his private dining room. Alerick and Davin await the Prince outside his bedchamber. The door suddenly opens and Alerick nearly trips over his own feet. Davin whimpers. The Prince stands before them dressed in a black leather teddy. The sides of the teddy are cut very high indeed and there’s very little material covering the Prince’s bottom. It’s a simple garment, but devastatingly effective. His long ruby red curls are pushed back from his face with a black leather headband. The Prince trails the tip of the matching crop over Alerick’s chest, down his stomach to his thigh. He makes a move to smack Alerick.

“Don’t you dare,” Alerick warns him full of joy at being acknowledged during a “campaign.”

The Prince smiles wickedly, but nods in agreement then he taps his crop against one of his own slim thighs before sliding it into the sheath of his boot. The view as Alerick follows behind him is especially enjoyable tonight. Upon their arrival at the dining room Prince Klauss who had been enjoying a glass of wine begins to choke on sighting the Prince. Lord Daffy pats him on the back his face sweetly concerned.

“Thank you, Lord Daffy,” Prince Klauss says weakly.

After a leisurely supper The Prince challenges Prince Klauss to a game of billiards.

Prince Klauss spends most of his time staring at the cousins’ bottoms as they bend over the billiard table to take their shots. The Prince who has gotten himself into a near impossible spot, climbs up onto the table; his nearly bare bottom wiggling as he sinks the ball. The Prince giggles as Prince Klauss says, “You’re cheating,” with a huge delighted smile, unable to tear his gaze away. He loses spectacularly.

“Now, your highness, how about a different game?” The Prince says with an arch smile.

“Of course,” Prince Klauss agrees, eagerly.

The Xenali begin piling pillows on the floor and Alerick blanches, fearing an orgy. The cousins and Prince Klauss seat themselves on the floor lounging against the pillows; they look very comfortable and Alerick is very much not. Lord Remy hands the Prince a black velvet sack tied up with a gold satin cord.

“Have you ever played, your highness?” The Prince inquires.

“No, your grace,” Prince Klauss replies.

“Well then we must explain the rules,” The Prince purrs.

“Are there rules, cousin?” Lord Remy muses.

The Prince tilts his head thoughtfully, “Hmm, for now.”

The Prince pulls the gold satin cord at the sack’s mouth and opens it. He holds it out to Prince Klauss. “Here, my love, reach inside and take a candy. Keep it hidden or the color will give the game away. Good, now pop it in your mouth. Yes, like that. And now Lord Daffy will attempt to guess the flavor.”

“Oh,” Prince Klauss says, his expression disappointed.

“With his mouth,” the Prince says with a naughty smile.

“Oh!” Prince Klauss’ eyes open wide then quickly close as Lord Daffy kisses him.

Prince Klauss shudders as the kiss deepens. Lord Daffy pulls away to announce, “Lemon. Delicious,” Lord Daffy slowly licks his lips as Prince Klauss watches spellbound.

They go around the circle, Prince Klauss squirming in obvious arousal becoming clearly less embarrassed as the game goes on. He watches Lord Candy kiss Lord Cherry with rapt attention, who even Alerick can appreciate make a very compelling couple.

“Cherry, very appropriate,” purrs Lord Candy. 

It’s now the Prince’s turn. The Prince chooses a candy, places it in his mouth and crooks his finger at Prince Klauss.

Prince Klauss’ expression is one of excited terror. Alerick wants to strangle him.

The kiss goes on for some time; when they finally break apart the Prince asks, “Well, my dear?”

Prince Klauss says dazedly, “What?”

The cousins including the Prince giggle.

“Oh, yes, sorry, it was grape?” Prince Klauss frowns, “I think?”

The Prince says solemnly, his eyes belie the seriousness of his tone, “Would you like another try? Just to be certain?”

“Yes, I, oh!” Prince Klauss exclaims before the Prince kisses him again.

“Grape,” Prince Klauss says with a punch drunk grin then falls back against the pillows as Lord Daffy climbs into his lap. “Would you play with me, your highness?”

“Of course,” Prince Klauss says, his hands gripping Lord Daffy’s slim hips.

“And me?” Lord Candy says with a sultry smile.

“Don’t forget me,” Lord Berry says cuddling up to Prince Klauss who practically vibrates with lustful excitement.

The Prince rises gracefully to his feet a slyly pleased smile on his face. “Well, my dear, we’ll just leave you boys alone.”

Prince Klauss groans his acknowledgement (barely visible, so covered with scantily clad young men is he) as the Prince and Lord Remy leave shutting the door behind them.

The Prince smiles triumphantly up at Alerick, “There are you hap- mmph.”

Alerick kisses him fiercely, forcefully, too forcefully as it happens, and the Prince actually staggers backwards hitting the wall. He makes a pained noise. Alerick loosens his hold.

“Ow, fuck!” The Prince pushes Alerick away, rubbing the back of his head and Alerick wilts in the face of his anger. “Sorry,” he whispers.

“My love, be careful,” Lord Remy drawls, “next the boy will piss on you to mark his territory and I’ve never known that to be an interest of yours.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Alerick repeats miserably raising his hands uselessly, wanting to pet and soothe him.

“You’re lucky this wig is so thick; you near brained me!” The Prince says and with one last resentful glare he turns to Lord Remy dismissing Alerick completely. “Come Remy, we have much to discuss,” he takes Lord Remy by the hand and they hurry off. Davin and Alerick follow.

Davin raises an eyebrow at him. Alerick glares. “What?”

“Lad,” Davin says with a sigh, “some advice if you’ll take it.”

“Alright,” Alerick agrees; he needs advice, he realizes he’s badly out of his depth.

“Don’t get in the way of business.”

“Business,” Alerick repeats dolefully.

“Aye he’s on the clock now. It’s a job and he’s good at it. The best I’d wager. You have to keep it separate from…whatever it is you’re up to.”

“Whatever we’re up to?" Alerick replies, heatedly, “It’s not like that. We are, we’re…”

“Yeah?” Davin says his expression sympathetic.

“That’s private,” Alerick says and refuses to say more.

“Just be careful lad, Davin says, gently, “It’s dangerous ground you’re on.”

Alerick nods tersely.

*

When Prince Klauss leaves he hands over a silver cage with several doves inside. The Prince coos at them happily.

“Like taking candy from a baby, cousin,” Lord Remy says, his expression smug.

“Hmm, I believe you have the right of it, my love,” The Prince agrees.

 

*  
Alerick’s been pacing around the library for some time now, unsure of his welcome. He sags in relief to see Louis slipping through the hidden panel. “You’re here,” he says with a joyous smile. Louis’ expression is not reassuring.

“I’m sorry, truly and...” Alerick begins.

Louis interrupts him, “We need to talk.”

Alerick’s heart stops then begins to race; even he knows that’s not a good conversation starter.

“I’m taking you off guard duty for future dignitary visits. You obviously cannot be trusted to behave.”

“That’s not fair. I never said a word when it mattered. I kept my hands off his neck just as promised.”

“Well, I felt your disapproving eyes on me the entire time,” Louis tells him, angrily, “I need to be able to concentrate, to work freely.”

Louis continues, unhappily, “I’m not sure you’re mature enough to handle this relationship.” He gnaws at his lip in obvious distress.

“Hey, hey,” Alerick pulls Louis into his arms; he goes easily to Alerick’s relief. “Is anyone mature enough to watch their beloved being mauled by a stranger?”

Louis stiffens. “I’m kidding,” Alerick says and kisses the top of Louis’ head. “I swear it won’t happen again. It’s a beautiful night for stargazing, what do you say?”

Louis makes a soft noise of assent. By the end of the evening Louis seems jollier. His good night kiss is sweet and Alerick aches to see him go.


	14. For All My Life I’ve Been Besieged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alerick worries about the future.

It’s Alerick’s day off and he goes to a play with Davin and Guy. The play (chosen by Davin) of course turns out to be a bawdy comedy. Alerick still blushes frequently though he has more knowledge and interest in these matters than before. In all he can admit it’s rather amusing. Afterwards they visit a tavern and Alerick grows uncomfortable by the attention of the tavern lasses. When a lad tries it with him Alerick hastily says his good byes.

Davin winks and says, “Why have dross when you’ve gold at home?”

Alerick stops by the kitchen for a snack. It’s late. Heidi and her staff will be abed by now. But Heidi never begrudges him as long as he doesn’t filch too much. Alerick doesn’t expect anyone else to be there so he’s surprised to see Louis and Agnes.

Alerick doesn’t make his presence known; he simply watches from the doorway.

“I’ve taught Wolf a trick, several tricks actually,” Agnes says airily.

Louis’ mouth falls open in exaggerated disbelief, “That little mutt? No, I don’t believe you.”

Agnes’ small face is outraged then she grins realizing he’s joking. Alerick knows the feeling.

“I’ll show you then,” Agnes says, “Lay down, Wolf, roll over, good, now beg.”

“Beg? Well, he already knew how to do that,” Louis teases, but he praises the little dog, “Good job, Wolf.” And tosses him a piece of ham.

“Told you so,” Agnes says smugly.

“You did; I should never have doubted you,” Louis kisses her on the forehead. “Now, I want a cookie. Is anyone else interested or…” Louis’ expression turns doubtful; he shakes his head, “No, you couldn’t possibly be?”

“Yes!” Agnes jumps up and down excitedly. Wolf joins in and Louis has to shush them.

Alerick’s rarely seen Louis look so happy; he smiles non- stop as he interacts with Agnes. He’s having fun playing like a kid and Alerick wonders what kind of childhood Louis had. Not a good one he suspects remembering Master Hughes’ words ‘taken from a young age’. Was Louis taken from his parents? And how old had he been? ‘I don’t know when my birthday is.’ What mother doesn’t know her child’s birthday? Did he never know her?

Was Louis ever allowed to play as a child? The way it was put to Alerick it sounds as if Louis’ life’s been nothing but readying himself for an unwanted fate. It must be exhausting being forced to live a life he hates, so different from Louis’ true self.

Alerick’s heart breaks for him. He’s about to slip away when Agnes spots him; her mien completely changes: she grows quiet, meek, scared.

Louis turns to see what’s upset her and his face at first shows his relief then becomes unwelcoming. “I thought you’d gone out with Davin,” he says coolly. Alerick doesn’t know what to say. Louis’ always pleased to see him, but not now, not tonight.

Alerick stutters for the first time in a while under Louis’ gaze, “I-I was they… I came back early. I’ll go.”

Louis shakes his head, his expression clears, “No it’s alright,” and when Agnes sees Louis is unconcerned with Alerick’s presence she relaxes.

“Would you like a cookie? We were just about to set out off on an expedition to find some, weren’t we?” Louis tickles Agnes and she giggles, laughing louder when he sweeps her off her feet, tossing her over his shoulder. She’s small enough that he manages it neatly.

“If you’re sure,” Alerick follows them into the kitchen where Louis pretends to be unable to find the cookies.

“There, no! Over there, yes!” Agnes shouts.

“In here?” Louis looks puzzled as he opens the cookie jar. “You’re right! I never would’ve thought to look there. You’re a very smart young lady,” he tells her, admiringly. Louis sets Agnes on her feet and hands over a cookie then doles one out for Alerick, himself and Wolf.

“You’re silly,” Agnes says as she happily munches on her cookie.

“You’re good with her,” Alerick says unsure his words are wanted.

“She makes it easy to be,” Louis smiles at her fondly. “I’ve not been around children very much before her. Children are so fresh, excited by life, innocent. There’s not been much innocence in my life,” he confesses almost shy. It’s a side of Louis Alerick’s never seen before. Alerick takes Louis’ hand in his. “And most important: they tend to be smaller than me,” Louis says with a laugh.

Alerick spots a book on the table, ‘The Planets’. “Are you reading this to her?”

“She’s reading it to me,” Louis says, proudly.

“Really?” Alerick is surprised; this book is an even a harder read than Madame Perpall’s Fairytales’. She’s amazingly smart for her age. It’s hard to believe a five year old can understand such a book.”

“Yes, very,” Louis says, pleased, “but she’s eight.”

Alerick is even more surprised, “Eight? She’s small for her age.”

“Yes,” Louis says watching Alerick steadily.

Alerick’s puzzled, he’s certain Heidi had told him Agnes was five. Alerick says slowly, “Well, it’s still remarkable. She must be a prodigy.”

This earns him the hugest smile Louis’ ever bestowed upon him.

Agnes yawns. “Alright young lady, it’s off to bed,” Agnes agrees as Louis scoops her up in his arms.

“Do you need help?”

“No,” Louis says striding away, “goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Alerick stares after them.

Alerick’s grateful Louis seems to be at ease with him again. Louis has so little time to himself and as much as Alerick wishes they could spend every minute of it together, he realizes he sounds like a petulant child. The last thing Alerick wants is to remind Louis of how young he is.

*

The Prince and Lord Remy are headed to the Prince’s private dining room. They both are in high spirits laughing gaily when the Archduke suddenly appears. He steps in front of them so they’re unable to pass. Alerick and Davin come to full attention.

The Prince and Lord Remy regard the Archduke serenely though Alerick is certain they are not.

“Hello nephew,” the Prince says with a pleasant smile, “How have you been abiding?”

“Very well,” the Archduke says his expression smug.

“Excellent," the Prince says, then a startled, “Oh,” as the Archduke hems the Prince in trapping him up against the wall. Davin and Alerick step forward threateningly. The Archduke looms over the Prince and grabs him by the arm.

“You know it won’t be long now,” the Archduke says with a mean smile, “until I ascend. Things will be much different then.”

Alerick is near shaking, so livid is he. Davin jerks his head at him mouthing, “No.” To the Archduke he says, calmly, but firmly, “Unhand the Prince, your highness.”

The Archduke smirks and with a careless laugh loosens his hold. The Prince yanks his arm away and steps closer to Alerick his head held high his expression, undisturbed.

“Are you alright?” Alerick asks concerned and the Prince nods his mouth tight.

“Prince? Not for much longer. I'll be stripping you of that title, one a slave should never have aspired to much less attained. Even Lord is too good for you, all of you. Giving titles to common prostitutes; it’s an outrage.”

Alerick’s furious; he takes a deep breath to settle down. Lord Remy’s eyes for once aren't icy; they burn with rage. For perhaps the first time, Alerick and Lord Remy are in complete agreement.

The Archduke smiles and says mockingly, “We’ll catch up later then, Juley.”

The Archduke turns to Lord Remy and slaps him on the bottom. “Remy, soon you and I will become much better acquainted.”

The Archduke is a big man, the hit is hard and Lord Remy’s small body is visibly jolted. Lord Remy almost stumbles yet somehow manages to keep his poise, face impassive.

As soon as the Archduke rounds the corner, The Prince and Lord Remy clutch each other’s hands and say almost at the same time,“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” Once reassured the Prince says worriedly, “He's growing bolder.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Alerick says with deadly assurance. Lord Remy's eyes gleam with approval, his smile full of teeth.

“Quiet lad,” Davin chides.

“That’s treason. Never say that again,” the Prince says, angrily then frightened, “Promise me.”

“I…” Alerick hesitates, feeling the impotence of being unable to protect the one he loves.

“Promise me right now,” The Prince demands.

“I promise,” Alerick says, reluctantly.

The Prince breaths out shakily, “Alright, back to business. My love, we have a supper party to host, do we not? What will Lady Samantha wear do you suppose?”

They then fall into a lively conversation mocking Lady Samantha and her milquetoast son as if nothing untoward had happened.

Alerick still seethes. He catches Davin’s eye and can see much the same emotion. Davin shrugs his shoulders, shakes his head and with a heavy sigh looks away.

*

Louis has asked Alerick to spar with him. They meet in a private courtyard near Louis’ apartments.

Louis’ pulled his curls back on top of his head with a simple ribbon and is dressed much the same as he does when he’s off duty. His breeches and shirt are better fitting though and open. His collarbones are clearly visible. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and it’s far from the first time Alerick’s noticed Louis has more muscle on him than some might think; dismissing him, that since he’s small he must be helpless, weak. Alerick takes in this pleasing picture and decides Louis’ never been lovelier.

“I usually train with Captain Lambois. He’s a good teacher, very patient even with Remy,” Louis says with a laugh.

“Lord Remy knows how to sword fight?” Alerick says in disbelief trying to imagine it (as he once had the Prince) with extreme difficulty. And he ruefully admits to himself how wrong he’d been about that.

“Yes. Sometimes he even beats me.”

“I’ll spar with you if you want or I could teach you hand to hand combat,” Alerick offers, “There could be situations where you need to know how to. Even fight dirty.”

“You’re just looking for an excuse to try and grope me,” Louis says with a knowing smile.

“I was not,” Alerick says, innocently, enjoying flirting with Louis.

“Liar," Louis declares with a fond smile. "Sword now," Louis swipes the air with his rapier, "Maybe the other later and I will be quite disappointed if you don’t try and grope me at least once."

Alerick’s surprised at how well Louis does. Alerick knows Louis has to be faster to hold his own and to have a few tricks up his sleeve. Louis doesn’t have the reach Alerick does of course, but he’s quick and nimble. Alerick still wins. He worries Louis will be mad, but he looks pleased. “Good, you’re not holding back.”

“Let’s go again,” Louis tries a feint that actually gets through Alerick’s guard.

“I taught him that trick,” a voice says. It’s Davin.

“What are you doing here?” Alerick asks annoyed.

“I like to watch,” Davin says with a leer.

Alerick growls at him.

“Kidding, I’m kidding. Sir Pellier’s having a shit fit, your grace, says he needs to speak with you immediately.”

“Damn it! I’m really not in the mood,” Louis says, frustrated then sighs resignedly, “Tell him I’ll be there in an hour,” his eyes sparkle devilishly, “Tell him, I’m entertaining company; make it sound dirty. I know you're good at that.”

“Yes sir,” Davin says with a snappy salute.

“Come help me,” Louis says to Alerick who quickly follows him.

Once in his bedroom Louis shucks his clothes off like they’re on fire and hurriedly wipes off sweat with a handkerchief. “Disgusting. I was going to have a nice long soak. Get me something to wear and a wig; go pick whatever.” he shoos Alerick off.

Louis’ almost finished applying his cosmetics. Alerick’s amazed at how much he’s accomplished by the time Alerick returns. He’s seen the Prince turn into Louis quite a few times now, but seeing it the other way around is even more fascinating.

Louis hurriedly lines his eyes and glues on false lashes.

When he sees the dress Alerick’s picked out, he says slyly, “I knew you liked this one.” It’s the silver one the Prince had worn to his birthday party minus the wings. Louis chooses a matching shiny gloss for his lips.

“I couldn’t find the wig,” Alerick says, apologetically as he holds up a curly black one. Or the stockings,” he says mournfully.

“It’s fine. I don't have time for stockings anyway.”

Alerick watches as Louis expertly puts on the wig then rifles through his jewelry box choosing a necklace which Alerick fastens for him. As Alerick fingers the diamonds he tells Louis, “I wish I could afford to give you something as grand as this, to cover you in jewels.”

Louis’ lips twist, his expression cynical, “None were _given_ to me. Believe me, I earned them. And I care little for them,” Louis tells him as he puts on rings, bracelets and earrings. Louis’ expression softens, “You give me more than that, much more. I’ve never had anyone who shares the same interests and who truly cares for me.”

Louis kisses him a quick peck on the lips. “I must hasten,” and slips his feet into the silver high heels. He checks his appearance in the mirror and smiles seemingly satisfied.

Alerick stares at the shoes with their ridiculously high heels and asks mystified, “How do you walk in them?”

“Walk?” Louis scoffs, “I can run,” and he takes off in a jog to prove it.

*  
Alerick finds Davin chatting up a kitchen lass and whispers in his ear, “We need to talk." 

"Now?" Davin grumbles.

It’s important.”

"Sorry, love I’ve got to go,” Davin says and the lass flounces off. “Shit, I was getting somewhere with her,” Davin says, reproachfully.

Once he and Davin are alone Alerick asks, “What are we going to do about the Archduke?”

“Nothing,” Davin says unhappily, “What can we do?”

"I don’t know," Alerick says frustrated. “Something. We need a plan, not to just give up.”

Davin sighs, “It’s up to Louis; we just follow orders, lad.”

“That’s not good enough,” Alerick says, heatedly.

“Listen, I’ve known Louis a hell of a lot longer than you have and he’s the smartest person I’ve ever met. There’s no way he doesn’t have something up his sleeve, so just trust him. Alright?” Davin says for once serious.

Alerick reluctantly agrees.

*  
That night in the library, Alerick and Louis collect the pages of their book, ‘The Astronomy Conversations’, it’s the culmination of all their hard. Louis has drawn a small sketch at the beginning of each chapter inked in black. The more detailed colored drawing of the noblewoman will be on the cover.

Louis says excitedly, “I believe it’s ready to print.”

Alerick beams at him proudly.

“I’ll just get a few copies,” Louis says soberly, “We won’t be able to truly publish it for now, but someday we’ll show it off to the world.”

Alerick nods then asks, “Louis what are we going to do about the Archduke? He can’t be allowed to ascend. Davin and I have been…”

Louis stiffens, “I told you to not say things like that. It’s treason.”

“We need a plan; you must see that,” Alerick perseveres.

“I’ve got it under control,” Louis says with a bright smile that by now Alerick can tell is false.

“What then? Tell me,” Alerick begs.

“I don’t want to talk about it; it may not come about and I don’t want to jinx it. It’s stupid to be so superstitious, I know,” Louis finishes apologetically. “Let’s speak of it no more; enjoy what we have now.”

Unhappily, Alerick defers to Louis who gives him a relieved smile. “Now, what type of binding do we want for our book?”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written a side story for this fic if you're interested: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16137365 :)   
> And I'm thinking we're one chapter (and possibly an epilogue) away from the end. Yay! Thanks for all your comments and kudos. They're much appreciated. <3


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